


30 Days of Gay 2017

by the_casket_girls



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Brief mention of sexual assault, F/F, Female!Klaus, M/M, Skipped day 7 for health reasons, Tumblr Prompts, Which is why it's 29 and not 30, just FYI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 25,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_casket_girls/pseuds/the_casket_girls
Summary: A collection of F/F one-shots based on the TVD/TO characters! Accepting prompts and requests via my TO Tumblr, @the-casket-girls.





	1. Staying In (Freelin)

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of NaNoWriMo this November I will be participating in 30 Days of Gay over on my Tumblr @the-casket-girls, with all of my one-shots posted here as well. Feel free to hop on over to Tumblr and request a TVD/TO pairing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I'm sick on halloween but told you to go have fun at the party anyway but instead you surprised me with a blanket fort, tons of candy and all my favourite scary movies"

 

 

_Staying In_

 

 

"Are you all right dear?" asked old Mrs McCready, her watery grey eyes drifting over Freya.

"I'm fine," Freya replied, wincing at the cracking of her voice. Her throat was on fire, but she'd used up all her lozenges. "Have a nice day!"

The woman seemed skeptical, but she made her way out the front of the shop regardless. The ringing of the bell from above the door made her head pound, but she kept her smile on regardless. Helen McCready was a notorious busybody, and if she saw the slightest sign of weakness the entire town would know about it in an hour.

Wiping at her forehead and finding it hot to the touch, Freya surveyed the shop. She'd set it up as soon as they moved there, she and Keelin and Keelin's three truckloads of stuff. What had once been a bookstore was now an old-school apothecary, complete with rare herbs and ingredients for spells. The local witch community was small, so Freya had to keep the doors open to all sorts: Tourists, skeptics looking for something to mock, and soccer moms that wanted to know what the latest craze was to end their headaches.

Maybe she should pinch some marshmallow root or slippery elm and brew a tea …

The bell above the door jingled again, setting her head spinning all over, but a glance up had her breathing a sigh of relief. "Hey!" she greeted, hoping her voice wasn't too hoarse. "On your lunch break?"

Keelin nodded, a crease forming between her brows. Even in fresh scrubs and sneakers she was the most beautiful thing Freya had ever seen. "I brought coffee, but you look like you could use some tea."

"I'm fine," Freya reassured her.

"Then why haven't you kissed me?" asked Keelin, resting her hip against the other side of the counter as she dropped the tray of coffees beside the rack of prayer beads. At Freya's silence, she smirked. "Didn't want to contaminate me, huh?"

"I'm not sick. I can manage."

Keelin reached over and pressed the backs of her knuckles to Freya's forehead. "You're running a bit of a fever. Do you have a headache?"

Well, she didn't want to lie … "Kind of, but I can manage it. I might have some aspirin in my purse, and I am in a store full of natural remedies."

"You should be home, Freya," said Keelin. "If you think you're good to drive, I can close up for you."

"I'm fine, really—"

"You're sick, and you'll spread that to other people if you stay here." Keelin walked around to Freya's side of the counter, reaching for the stack of paper Freya kept there. She located a marker from next to the register and began writing. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for the pensioners you serve that can't afford to catch a cold this close to winter."

Freya turned pleading eyes on her girlfriend. "I can't be sick on Halloween—it's your favourite holiday." She remembered their last Halloween together, how thrilled Keelin had been setting up the house and arranging their costumes. They'd been invited to a party this year, one thrown by a work friend of Keelin's, and their costumes had taken ages to make …

"And you're my favourite part of every holiday," Keelin told her, finishing up with the sign:

I'M SICK AND MY DOCTOR SAYS I CAN'T COME BACK UNTIL I'M BETTER. IF YOU SEE ME OUT OF THE HOUSE WHILE MY NOSE IS STILL RUNNING, CALL AN AMBULANCE.

Freya sighed. "That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

Nodding thoughtfully, Keelin uncapped the marker again and amended it.

I'M SICK AND MY DOCTOR SAYS I CAN'T COME BACK UNTIL I'M BETTER. IF YOU SEE ME OUT OF THE HOUSE WHILE MY NOSE IS STILL RUNNING, CALL AN AMBULANCE. CALL KEELIN AND DOB ME IN.

"Rude," Freya protested, though she was grateful.

"Necessary," Keelin countered as she grabbed a roll of tape and walked to the door. "Do you think you can drive?"

"It's a head cold, not the plague. I'll be fine."

Keelin finished taping the sign up, facing outward, and flipped the open/closed sign around as well. "I'll finish locking up; you get home and get into bed."

Freya smirked at her. "Yes, ma'am."

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Keelin continued, "I have to get back to work, but I should be home by five or six. We'll skip the party tonight, no big deal."

"It is a big deal; you love Halloween. You can still go to the party. Our costumes aren't too couple-y, and you'll look fine on your own."

"I'd rather wear our couples' costume of flannel pajamas and bed socks, thanks." Keelin gave her a smile so bright it shone and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "See you at home."

* * *

Freya almost tripped over the Halloween decorations on the front lawn when she got home. They were everywhere, a symptom of Keelin's obsession with the holiday.

Finally making it inside, Freya made a beeline for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, rolling some ibuprofen out onto her palm and ducking under the running tap to swallow it down with water. She washed her face down, hoping she'd feel a little brighter as soon as possible.

* * *

Keelin was always exhausted when she got home.

She was a trauma surgeon, so that wasn't unexpected, but today had been more gruelling than usual. The roads were wet and people were stupid and she'd put more people back together again than she ever wanted to again.

She did love her job. She just wished that sometimes she didn't have to pick up an espresso at 5pm just so she could be present when she ate dinner with her wife.

The door was unlocked when she walked up to it. Keelin opened it almost cautiously, calling, "Freya?" as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her if she was trying to sleep.

She found Freya on the sofa. In her Halloween costume. Curled up into a ball.

"Babe," Keelin groaned, feeling Freya's temperature again. "You should be warm in bed, not here in a Supergirl outfit."

Freya shook her head, forcing herself to sit up. Her eyes unfocused for a moment before coming back. "No, no. We have to go to the party. You wanted to go so badly, you were so excited—"

"I'll be okay," Keelin reassured her. It didn't come up so often now, but sometimes it was really obvious that Freya wasn't raised to consider herself even half as much as she did others. "We can have the party here."

Freya peered up at her, eyes glassy. "But that's not Halloween. You love it so much—it's scary and wonderful."

Keelin leant down and pressed her forehead to Freya's. " _You're_  scary and wonderful, and I love you more than any holiday. Now go have a shower."

"You should get to wear your costume, at least. If we're having the party here."

"Okay. I'll change into my costume if you shower and change into pajamas. Deal?"

Mollified, Freya said, "Deal."

* * *

Freya pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the hot water beat down over her back. The steam was clearing her lungs, easing the pain in her throat, and she was starting to think that maybe tonight wouldn't be all bad after all.

She made herself switch the water off eventually, wanting to leave some for Keelin at least. Her hair was shorter than it had ever been and didn't take much effort to towel-dry until it was acceptably damp rather than dripping wet, and her pajamas were like a warm embrace the moment she stepped into them.

Padding out into the living room in her socks, she was met with a sight she'd never forget.

Keelin had found the bright orange sheets they'd bought for no reason (other than that Keelin found them hilarious). She'd managed to make a blanket fort out of them, stretching them over two chairs from the dining room and resting them along the back of the sofa. The Halloween decorations from outside the house had been brought in and pinned to the sheet, bats and spiders and ghosts all dotting the outside of the blanket fort.

As someone that didn't even like Halloween, it was a bit embarrassing for Freya to be tearing up just then.

"Do you like it?" asked Keelin, popping in from the kitchen in her full Wonder Woman suit.

"You did all this?" Freya asked, voice squeaking.

Keelin nodded. "Blanket forts were a tradition when I was growing up. Dad would set them up whenever we were home from school. There's soup on, too. I have  _Beetlejuice_ queued up on Netflix. Figured we could watch and eat soup, maybe some candy if you're up for it later."

"Sounds perfect," Freya said, and meant it.

"Go get settled in. I'll set the soup to simmer and meet you in there."

Freya did as instructed, nestling into the blankets and pillows in the nest Keelin had made. She always loved her wife, but sometimes it really hit her that this was her life now, that this was all real. Sometimes she wondered if it was just a dream Dahlia had conjured up to be cruel.

Keelin reappeared, crawling in to sit beside Freya with her legs tucked under her. "How are you feeling? Can I get you any meds?"

"I'm good for now. Had my second dose of ibuprofen about an hour ago."

Keelin pulled her phone from her bra. "I'll set an alarm for your next dose. We should keep up with it."

Freya couldn't stop her grin from turning goofy. "You take such good care of me." Reaching up, she rested a hand on Keelin's cheek. Keelin leant into the gesture, pressing a kiss to Freya's palm before leaning down to meet her lips.

Freya stopped her short. "Don't," she protested. "You'll get sick."

"I kissed you this morning before work," Keelin said, eyes dancing. "If I'm gonna get sick, I will."

"I don't want to tempt fate."

With a sigh, Keelin rested back on her haunches. "I'll be right back," she said, crawling back out of the fort. She returned a minute later with one alteration.

She was wearing a surgical mask.

"Do you really just keep those around?" asked Freya.

"They come in handy," Keelin defended, crawling toward Freya. She didn't stop at her feet, instead clambering over her until she was hovering above her.

Freya may not have been able to see her wife's smile, but she felt it against her own lips a moment later. She didn't even complain about the taste of paper.


	2. Leather Clad (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A scary-looking person who unintentionally makes kids cry and a daycare volunteer meet at a children-filled park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Some Hope for Erika (sorry, I was only doing Halloween for the first prompt, but I included her without the trick-or-treating so I hope that's okay). I'll definitely pencil in some roadtrip goodness, too!

_Leather Clad_

 

"It was mine!" screeched the snot-nosed boy, cheeks flaring pink with indignation. "I found it, I picked it up, and I had it! I only put it down to go pee!"

"Did you know this, Mary?" asked Keelin, turning to the accused. Mary's bright blue eyes coasted away from Keelin, scanning the sky while she bit her lip in a way that had Keelin fighting a smile. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Danny gets his stick back, and Mary, you and I are going to have a look and see if we can't find one you like, okay?"

"But I want that one!" Mary whined, eyes fixed on the stick in Keelin's hands. "It's shaped like a snake."

Keelin swallowed her sigh. "I'm sure we can find another one. Now, can you please apologise to Danny? We'll go looking right after you do."

Groaning, Mary shot an icy look at Danny. "Sorry."

"Mary," Keelin scolded. "Did you mean that?"

Mary faced Danny full on, some of the ice in her gaze thawing. "I'm sorry I took your stick, Danny."

"It's okay," said Danny, all forgiven. "It's a pretty cool stick. I think I saw one like it over there, if you wanna go find it."

"Cool!" said Mary, glancing at Keelin.

"That sounds like a great idea," Keelin confirmed, passing the stick back to Danny. "Stay where I can see you, okay? No going past the sandpit, and no talking to anyone you haven't seen before. And definitely no going into the parking lot, do you understand, Danny?"

Danny glanced toward said parking lot, paling a little. "Yes, ma'am," he said, scarpering off with Mary.

Frowning, Keelin turned to look towards the parking lot, hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. A car had just pulled in, a tall woman hopping out of the front. She was in all black, from what Keelin could see, and she was helping a little red-haired girl out of the back seat.

They walked over holding hands, and Keelin noticed the kids clamming up and looking at the woman skeptically. The closer she got the more apparent it became that she wasn't just wearing black, but black leather. Who wore black leather to a kids' park in the middle of spring?

The little red-haired girl spotted someone she knew, skipping off towards the playground while her companion—mother? babysitter? Keelin couldn't tell—was left behind, tucking her hands into her pockets awkwardly. The parents congregated at one of the picnic tables were eyeing her with something a little too close to disdain for Keelin's taste.

Surveying the kids to make sure they were all behaving, Keelin made her way over to the woman, who raised a pierced eyebrow at Keelin's arrival.

"Hi," greeted Keelin, sticking her hand out. "I'm Keelin. I volunteer with the daycare across the road."

The woman took her hand and shook it, her palm cold against Keelin's warm one. "Freya," she said. "I'm just here with my niece. Hope."

"She seems sweet," said Keelin, glancing at where Hope was standing in line for a turn on the swing. She realised a little late that she hadn't let go of Freya's hand yet. She dropped it like it burned her. "Sorry," she said, laughing nervously. "I'm so exhausted."

Freya's smile was like the spring itself. "You don't look it, but I believe you. How many of these kids are you watching?"

"Just eight or so. I only volunteer on Saturdays, so there are fewer than there would be during the week."

"So you really just, volunteer? No pay?"

"Nope. I started when my nephew was there, but it's been a few years now and I like coming back. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday morning."

"I'm sure there are," Freya agreed.

Keelin was just considering what to say next when pain bloomed in her arm, sudden and sharp. "Ouch!" she hissed, looking down to find a graze running across her bicep. Her gaze zeroed in on the offender a few feet away. "Danny! What have I told you about throwing sticks?"

A very contrite Danny looked down at the ground. "Sorry!"

Keelin groaned, biting back the litany of curse words she wanted to utter as blood welled in her injury.

"Do you have a first aid kit with you?" Freya asked, stepping around to peer at the wound.

Keelin nodded. "It's, uh, with my bag over on the bench."

Freya led her over to it, hand on her forearm the whole time until she'd guided her to sit down on the rickety wood. She dropped down beside her, leather creaking as she sifted through the canvas bag to find the first aid kit and crack it open.

"I can get it," Keelin tried, but Freya shook her head and said, "Nope, I'm good," and that was that.

Freya cleaned out her wound carefully but thoroughly, teeth in her lip the whole time. It was too long for a bandaid so she found some gauze and taped it into place. "That okay?" she asked when she was done.

Keelin smiled. "I'd hire you." At Freya's confused look, she clarified, "I'm a trauma surgeon."

Nodding, Freya scrutinised Keelin. "Yeah, I can see that."

"How?" asked Keelin, laughing. "You can just … see the doctorliness?"

"Yeah. It's a definite quality."

Their eyes met, neither looking away—

—until the first aid kit slid off Freya's leather pants and hit the ground.

"Shit," Freya muttered under her breath, stooping down to pick it all up before Keelin could intervene. Her cheeks were bright red when she resurfaced, clicking the kit shut. "I think the sanitised parts might be compromised."

"I have like ten more at home. Don't worry about it."

"AUNT FREYAAAAA!"

Freya was on her feet instantly, gaze seeking Hope in the crowd of children. She found her sitting atop the monkey bars, hands gripping the structure anxiously.

"I'm coming, sweetie," Freya said, picking her way past the children to get to Hope.

Keelin couldn't hear what followed, but she saw Freya coax Hope down, catching her in her arms and pressing kisses to her head until the little girl shrieked.

Their eyes met over the kids' heads as they shared a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments so far, they mean a lot. :) The third one is almost done, and it's a ship that I definitely haven't seen going around, so I hope you guys like it!


	3. The Soapbox (Rebille)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm very passionate about this cause and I will give you this flier if I have to shove it down your throat + Rebille (Rebekah/Camille)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! An unusual ship for an unusual month.

 

 

_The Soapbox_

 

 

Rebekah Mikaelson was never late.

She took her education seriously. Elijah had instilled his commitment to excellence in her from a young age. Being the only one really taking care of the kids while their parents did god knows what (and Finn was reading poetry and sulking in his room), Elijah was the person Rebekah respected most in all the world.

He wouldn't be glad to know that she'd slept in, lost her meal card, and was now running late to her Women's Studies class. (Though he was thrilled enough at her taking the class in the first place that he may forgive her.)

It was because of this general lateness and anxiety that Rebekah neglected to take the back-route she usually did to get to class, instead sprinting across the quad in her heeled-boots—

And right into The Soapbox, and affectionately named central hub for all social justice movements on campus.

Most volunteers there were students like Rebekah herself and recognised, on instinct, the harried look of a student in crisis, thus giving her the wide berth she was due.

Unfortunately, there was a new group on campus that particular day.

"What's your favourite brand of tampon?" asked a blonde-haired woman, stepping directly into Rebekah's path.

"What?" asked Rebekah, so floored by the question that she halted in her tracks.

"Did you know that women in prison are only afforded generic brands of sanitary products, the kinds most shown to lead to chafing and discomfort?"

Blood pounding both from her jog and from her irritation at this interruption, Rebekah said, "No, I wasn't aware," through gritted teeth. "Are you aware that I'm obviously running late to class?"

"Are you also aware that, with hospital funding such as it is, many women's hospitals run out of sanitary products and provide nothing for their inmates during their cycles?"

Rebekah stepped a little closer, staring right down at the shorter woman. CAMILLE, her name-tag read. "Are you aware,  _Camille_ , that I have a perfect GPA to maintain and a professor who barely likes me to deal with?"

"Are you aware,  _Perfect GPA_ , that incarcerated women have suffered from infections due to—"

"Are you a student here?" Rebekah demanded. "Do you even know what it's like—"

"I'm a psych major, so I get it. You?"

"Undeclared."

"What class are you late to?"

"Women's Studies."

Camille smirked, pressing the flyer into Rebekah's chest. "Don't you kind of feel like you've already been to class?" she said, stepping back.

"Oh, go find your next victim," Rebekah spat, though there was an embarrassing lack of vitriol in her tone.

She'd have to work on that for when she walked past after class. The quad was the quicker route, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was so fun that I'm tempted to continue the story after all this is over. WHAT A SHIP.


	4. Good Morning (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A is up early and making Person B breakfast, the radio is on and Person A is dancing at the counter while making breakfast, they turn around and notice Person B stood at the door they smile awkwardly and Person B bursts out laughing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another! This is a post-Season 4 one shot.

 

 

Good Morning

 

 

The first good morning was a surprise.

It came two months after defeating The Hollow. Two months after losing the family Freya had been searching for for so long. Two months after losing a part of herself.

Freya woke before Keelin, easing herself out of bed gently so as not to disturb her. The early dawn light cast everything in quiet violet.

Completing her usual yoga routine in no time at all, Freya found herself sitting up on the kitchen counter nursing a cup of chamomile tea. Her legs swung like pendulums, metronomes setting the pace for the song she was humming in between sips.

Something had lifted off her heart.

Perhaps it was that her family was safe, if separate. Perhaps it was the knowledge that wherever they were, they were happy. And if they were happy, she might as well be, too.

Keelin's alarm was due to go off in ten minutes, so Freya jumped down from the counter and deposited her empty mug into the sink. Flicking the radio on to her favourite smooth jazz station, Freya set about getting out everything needed for a good breakfast spread.

Once the waffle batter was mixed and the iron was heating up, Freya lost herself to the music, hair spinning. Her bare feet slapped over the tiles to the rhythm of the music as she spun around and around—

And found herself face-to-face with Keelin.

Face flushing, Freya said, "Breakfast?" with what she hoped was a bright smile.

Keelin burst out laughing, almost doubling over. "That was …" She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Truly a marvel to witness." Moving in closer, she set her hands on Freya's bare hips, just a fraction of an inch above the fabric of her yoga pants. "Good morning," she said, drawing Freya in for a kiss.

Freya responded with enthusiasm, pulling back only when she needed air. She returned Keelin's smile. "Yeah, it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking prompts either via Tumblr (@the-casket-girls) or in the comments section.


	5. Lost Girl (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I lost our baby"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another! This one is post-Season 4, post-adoption of their first child (for Erika). Enjoy!

 

 

_Lost Girl_

 

 

 

Keelin pulled into the driveway, gravel crackling under the wheels of her car as she came to a halt. The house was pleasant, decent-sized with a herb garden out front of Freya's creation. The outside was a nice, crisp white where they'd repainted it last Christmas. They'd had to impress the adoption lady, after all.

Kicking her boots off at the door, Keelin made her way inside.

The house was chaos, but that had quickly become the new normal. Toys were strewn over the living room, no longer limited to the mat now that Daisy was crawling.

"Hello?" Keelin called, setting her bag down on one of the sofas. "Anyone home?"

Freya came jogging into view, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with panic. "I can't find her."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost our baby. One minute she was there, watching me knead the bread dough, and the next she was just gone—"

"It's okay, babe," said Keelin, stepping close to drop a kiss on Freya's cheek. "Babies are hardier than we think. I'm sure she's fine. You keep going with the bread and I'll find the baby."

"You think I can make bread while our child is missing?" asked Freya, voice hitching.

"Okay, good point. Just hang on …" Keelin tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to attune her senses. There was something coming from the laundry, some shuffling, a heartbeat— "Found her!" she announced, following the sound.

Daisy had managed to flip over a basket full of clean washing over her head, almost burying herself in the clothes.

"I can see why you couldn't spot her at first glance," said Keelin, pulling the pair of jeans off their daughter's head and lifting her up in her arms so fast she squealed delightedly. "But she's fine. See?"

Freya nodded, still looking a little pale. "This time, yeah."

"Hey." Keelin reached out, pressing her thumb into Freya's chin. "This time is the only time we have to think about for now. Okay?"

Some of the tension fled Freya's frame as she took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, sounding stronger. "Would you mind watching her while I finish off the bread? I know you're keen for a shower, but—"

"I'm fine. You go. After you're done I'll shower off and start the soup, okay? A team effort, with eyes on the prize at all times." She hefted Daisy on her hip, making the little girl giggle.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," gushed Freya, kissing each of them in turn before heading back to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stilling accepting prompts in the comments section or via Tumblr @the-casket-girls!


	6. Girls, Interrupted (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Post 4x06, Freelin in the jazz bar or on their way back to the belltower. Keelin flirts with a very nervous Freya and something happens when they're about to kiss" from mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another! You can all thank mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr for this particular prompt.

 

 

_Girls, Interrupted_

 

 

Keelin usually steered clear of the supernatural.

It was an odd thing to recall about herself, sitting in a club across from the most powerful witch she'd ever met, but it was true. She avoided other werewolf packs, content with her status as the last Malraux and nothing more. She connected with humans, treating them as their doctor, befriending them as their neighbour, dating them as their partner.

She avoided the supernatural. Until one day, she couldn't.

It was safe to say that she wasn't avoiding things anymore. Not the supernatural, not strange and unexpected attractions … nothing.

She didn't think she could say the same for Freya, though. The witch shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the little umbrellas that had come with their drinks.

"Cool place, huh?" said Keelin, trying desperately to prompt any conversation at all.

"Yeah," said Freya. "I, um, I found it soon after I first came here. Celebrating my freedom and all."

"Freedom from Dahlia, right?"

Freya nodded shortly, biting her lip. She obviously didn't want to talk about it.

"So what drew you to this place in particular?" Keelin asked, sitting forward and bracing her elbows on the table.

"It was the loudest," Freya said, a small smile playing on her lips. "I wanted to stop thinking, and this seemed like the best place to do that."

"Do you want to stop thinking tonight?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Why's that?"

"I … like my thoughts the way they are, I guess."

Keelin bit back her grin. "Thoughts about The Hollow, right?" She knew she was wrong.

"Not at the moment." Their eyes met briefly before Freya flicked her gaze away, finding a couple grinding against each other on the dance floor not three feet away from where they were seated.

"Do you want to get out of here?" asked Keelin. "Maybe go think somewhere else?"

Freya looked relieved. "Honestly, yeah. I do."

Keelin stood, extending a hand. "Let's go then."

* * *

The night air was cool, especially against all of the skin left exposed by Freya's cocktail dress. But she didn't mind. The weight of Keelin's hand in hers was more than enough to keep her comfortable.

"It's getting kind of late," said Keelin. They'd been walking for at least an hour. "Do you want to go home?"

"I think I'm sober enough to do some spellwork," said Freya. "I need to go over a few things, at least."

"The belltower it is."

They changed direction, hands still linked. It wasn't far to the belltower, and the access via the back door was always open to them thanks to Freya's boundary spell.

"After you," said Keelin, stopping to let Freya past first. They'd both halted dead in their tracks, facing one another in the doorway.

Freya could smell the rum on Keelin's breath, just enough to make her head spin. Her heart pounded its way up into her throat as she leaned in, chasing the scent to its source—

And hiccuped.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, Freya felt her cheeks begin to burn. "I'm sorry," she said, voice muffled.

Keelin burst out laughing. "You're okay," she said. "How about we get you upstairs and see if there's some milk or something up in the bar fridge, huh?"

Mortified, Freya let Keelin lead her up the narrow staircase, her hiccups echoing along with each footstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts via comments or Tumblr @the-casket-girls!


	7. The Tip of My Tongue (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Post-kiss in 4x07" requested by @drawingforlive on Tumblr + "Four times Freya tried to tell Keelin she loved her and one time she did" requested by @mangeur-detoiles, also on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for skipping yesterday guys! In my defense, my back was in spasm and I couldn't sit up to type. But I do hope to catch up and hopefully provide an extra day to make up for the one lost, so there is that!

 

 

 

_The Tip of My Tongue_

 

 

 

When Freya first realised she was in love with Keelin, it was while feeling hair that wasn't hers blowing into her face, tasting lips that weren't her own against her tongue, her heart beating a rhythm that wasn't hers because surely something so dark could never feel so light.

They separated to breathe, staying close enough to warm one another with each exhale.

_I love you._

She wanted to say it. She almost tried to.

But it wasn't time. Things weren't safe, life wasn't easy, and love should never be hard. Not when it starts. Not like this.

So she didn't.

* * *

The second time Freya tried to tell Keelin she loved her, it wasn't a good time at all.

Things always got busy in New Orleans. A family crisis, a constant enemy threat, infighting among them—Klaus and Marcel being the biggest menaces there, though Freya couldn't claim innocence herself …

The reality was that there was little time for Freya to think of herself, let alone Keelin. And yet that seemed to be all she was able to do.

Keelin stopped by the belltower after a long day of work for both of them, chamomile tea in hand. She was wearing her scrubs (a fresh pair, she assured Freya), and even though she was obviously tired there was something so alive behind her eyes as she spoke of her work, of her patients, of how good it felt to be back in the OR, scalpel in hand.

She was always so bright, so grounded, so present. And Freya felt so very far away.

_I love you._ She thought it, but didn't say it. It wasn't the time.

* * *

The third time Freya tried to tell Keelin she loved her, it was standing in the middle of the empty courtyard. The circle of salt that had bound the spell to ruin her family had blurred at the edges, the crisp line smudged. Or maybe that was just the tears.

"Are you okay?" asked Keelin, stepping up beside her. "You should eat something, maybe get some rest—"

"I'm fine," said Freya, scuffing the salt with her shoe. "I'll be fine. Is Vincent gone?"

"Yeah, he took off soon after the others did. Hope and Hayley are upstairs. Can I get you anything?"

Freya turned to face her.  _I love you._

"No," she said instead. "Just having you here is enough."

* * *

The fourth time Freya tried to tell Keelin she loved her it was with the smell of paint in her nostrils, cloying and almost nauseating, but she didn't mind.

They'd repainted the bedroom in the house they'd bought together, preferring a deep blue over the rusty brown that had once adorned it. The job done for the day, they both stood in the empty space where their bed would be, gazing at the walls. The pedestal fan that blew air out the open french doors creaked and tapped, wobbling on its stand.

"It looks good," said Keelin, wiping her forehead with the back of a hand and leaving a streak of paint in its wake. "What?" she asked, catching Freya's grin.

"Paint on your head."

"Oops." Keelin lifted the hem of her old T-shirt to wipe it off. "Am I good?"

Freya couldn't stop her chuckle. "You kind of … moved it around a bit, if that's what you're asking."

"Damn. I guess this is just what I look like now." Keelin stepped toward her, slipping her arms around Freya's waist. "How will you ever look at me the same?"

"I don't know," Freya replied, stepping in as close as she could get. "I guess I'll just have to try my best to see past it."

Keelin laughed, mouth still spread in a smile when she leaned forward to kiss Freya. It wasn't often that kissing left Freya with a single coherent thought left in her head, but this time there was one:

_I love you._

Pulling back, she stared into Keelin's eyes, the warm brown of them reflecting light from the window until they looked like they were alive, like something shimmered inside them.

_I love you,_ she didn't say. Love was a promise, more than any house could be. She wouldn't say it until she was sure.

* * *

The first real I love you didn't come from Freya.

It was their first Christmas together. Hope and Hayley had joined them in New Orleans, both sharing the big bed in the guest room. Hope was overjoyed to be back, even if her father wasn't there, and she was so attached to both Freya and Keelin that they barely spent a second without her by their side.

"Aunt Keelin," Hope said, pencil not leaving the page. "Why did Aunt Freya get you that ring?"

Keelin twisted the ring in question around her finger, the moonstone shining in the mid-afternoon light. "You'd have to ask her, sweetie." It was a hard question to answer, given that they were trying to avoid discussing the painful side of the werewolf condition with Hope while she was so young. It wouldn't do to frighten her.

"Aunt Freya," Hope began, peering over at where Freya sat at the counter, browsing the news on her phone. "Why did you get Aunt Keelin that ring?"

"Why do you think, Hope?" asked Freya, avoiding the real answer. Hope rarely asked questions she didn't already have an answer for, after all.

"I think you got it because you love her."

Freya and Keelin's gazes met immediately, neither shying away.

"That's right, baby," said Freya, still smiling right at Keelin. "I did."

Keelin blinked slowly, a little stunned. "Well then," she said, looking back at Hope with a conspiratorial grin. "I suppose I'll have to get Aunt Freya a ring, too."

"Cool!" said Hope. "You should get one that's shaped like a dragon, with a big diamond in it!"

Keelin laughed, looking back up at Freya. Her eyes shone with tears, but she blinked them away easily. "Maybe."

"I love you," Freya mouthed.

Keelin's smile was more dazzling than any diamond when she mouthed her reply: "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts via the comments or Tumblr @the-casket-girls!


	8. Equals in Badassery (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "How is my wife more badass than me?"

 

 

 

_Equals in Badassery_

 

 

 

The bar was barely lit, dark just the right amount for intimate conversations over cocktail glasses, the kind that left heels kicked off under the table and jackets slung over barstools. Freya and Keelin frequented it on date nights, trying their best to support the family running it. It was a fine establishment, in Freya's words, and nowhere in town made a better bloody mary.

Usually, it was one of the best places in town to be.

Not tonight.

Freya and Keelin had arrived after their dinner date, ready to mainline tequila and get as wild as they could. Three years married and they could still kick it with their single friends. Mostly.

That night, however, there were new customers.

It was a small town, and any newcomers were usually welcomed. That couldn't be said of the workers being brought in for the construction job on the edge of town, who'd burned through practically every other bar in the area after being banned from each one.

And now they'd come here.

"Maybe we should just go home," said Keelin, cringing at yet another wolf-whistle. "We still have some pinot left."

"Mmm." Freya sipped at her drink, the fingers of her free hand tapping against her thigh while her gaze zeroed in across the room. "Maybe we should stick around."

Keelin peered over her shoulder to find one of the men drop his arm around one of the waitresses' shoulders, pulling her against him. Keelin set down her drink, heart kicking up a notch already.

"I've got it," Freya reassured her, squeezing her shoulder on her way past.

Heart still pounding, Keelin pivoted in her chair to watch the scene: Five men, one server, and Freya marching towards them, heels clacking on the floor with each step.

"Hi, sweetheart," said one of the men. "Saw you and your friend over there—"

"Shut the fuck up and leave," said Freya.

"Or else what, sweetie?" asked another, grin wide and full of straight white teeth that Keelin wanted to knock out of his skull.

Freya went still, and though Keelin couldn't see her face she knew exactly what it looked like. "Or else nothing," said Freya. "The bad thing will happen whether you leave or not. I'm just willing to bet anything that you won't want to be here after it happens."

The one with his arm still around the waitress tugged her even closer to him and said, "Is that a threat—"

And then he choked.

All five of them started coughing and choking, faces purpling until Keelin started getting actually concerned—

It stopped as soon as it started, leaving them gasping for air and staring up at Freya like she was the devil incarnate.

"Want to stay now?" she asked, tone light.

They almost tripped over one another in their haste to leave. The silence they left in their wake was broken by applause and no less than 6 offers for free drinks for Freya and Keelin.

Freya finally made her way back to their table, dropping into her seat with a smirk. "Well, that was fun. I guess we're lucky half of this town is supernatural."

Keelin laughed. "How is my wife more badass than me?"

"I'm not. We're destined to find equals in badassery. It's how soulmates work."

"Equals in badassery," Keelin repeated. "God I wish we'd come up with that in time for the wedding vows."

"Mmm," Freya agreed. "How long do we have to be married before we can renew our vows?"

Keelin leaned over the table, cupping Freya's chin in her hand. "I don't care—let's do it now," she said, leaning forward to kiss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	9. Up To Something (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Freelin love story from another character's POV. At first, this character is pretty sure there's nothing going on between Freya and Keelin past their bad witch/ last Malraux wolf strange alliance. Until... (from @mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! It's a bit late. But I do have a plan to catch up/stay on track, and hopefully it works out in spite of the crushing back pain.

 

 

 

_Captain Oblivious_

 

 

 

Klaus Mikaelson did not consider himself to be an oblivious man.

Fastidious attention to detail was a requirement of his lifestyle, as was paying close attention to his family's interactions with outsiders.

This was why, in part, Klaus found himself watching his older sister with a careful eye at the party. Though they were rather occupied with other business, namely The Hollow's followers and Sofya's incessant interference, Klaus wouldn't soon forget the interloper, Keelin, nor the way she seemed to have attached herself to their lives. They needed the wolf for her venom, not her company. What game was Freya playing with the woman?

Klaus observed them carefully from the balcony in the Abattoir, the party flowing around them as they sipped on their drinks. What did they really know about this woman? Tragically the last of her family, a doctor of some fashion, someone they wronged by kidnapping her to extract her venom, and now … what? She stuck by them to sip on martinis in a party that was more likely to end in bloodshed than anything else?

He didn't buy it. Perhaps Hayley would have answers. She'd known the werewolf the longest, after all.

* * *

Lacking the opportunity to bring it up with Hayley, Klaus instead focused his attention on Freya herself, observing her actions carefully, taking time to note her moods according to her scent. She returned from her belltower smelling like the Malraux wolf more often than not.

On one such night, not one week after the party at the Abattoir, Klaus found Freya wandering back home later than usual, leather jacket speckled with water from where the light rain had hit her. She seemed unburdened, though, her smile fixed on her face regardless of their current circumstances.

Klaus waited for her in the sitting room upstairs, sketchpad in hand while he listened carefully for Hope's steady heartbeat as she slept upstairs.

"Had a good night?" asked Klaus, making Freya jump on her way past.

"Uh, yeah," she said, cheeks flushed. "I was just out at the belltower, doing spells and magic and stuff."

"Mm. What is your opinion on the Malraux wolf?"

"Keelin?" She seemed taken aback. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because she's hanging around my family and I barely know her. You seem to have struck up a rapport with her somehow, in spite of her rocky start with us. Whatever witchcraft you used to do so, it must have allowed you some insight into her intentions with our family."

Freya blinked owlishly. "There was no witchcraft involved, Klaus. She's here because she wants to help our family. Nothing nefarious."

Perhaps she'd been drinking, Klaus thought, scenting the air for any lingering smell of alcohol coming from her breath. Nothing. "If you say so," he said, hoping not to start anything with her. "But should you come to doubt her, please inform me immediately. I don't want her near my daughter if she isn't on our side."

"I'd never risk Hope, Klaus."

"I know, sister," Klaus reassured her. He did know it—she'd do anything for Hope.

"Well, I'd best be getting to bed," said Freya. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Freya," Klaus replied, watching her go. She'd left him with much to think about.

* * *

"You wanted to talk to me?" said Hayley, looking about as exhausted as Klaus felt. It was late at night, Hope had finally gone to bed, and they were both desperate to follow.

"Yes. It's about Keelin."

"What about her?"

"She seems … attached to Freya. I don't understand what game she's playing. Perhaps she intends to ingratiate herself to our family—"

Hayley burst out laughing. "Klaus, seriously?"

"Look, I know you all think I'm being ridiculous, but something is going on with Keelin and Freya and I don't like it."

"Yes, Klaus, something is going on with them—"

"Exactly, which is why I—"

"They're falling in love."

Klaus froze. "That … is not possible. I don't—Freya doesn't—"

"Freya does, and she has for a long time. Keelin is special to her, so maybe ease up on the paranoia and look at the situation through a different lens."

He thought back to the party, to the drinking and the lingering touches. And he remembered Freya returning home that night, cheeks red and eyes shining but no hint of alcohol on her breath.

"Are we certain this is good for Freya?"

"Making her own choices is good for Freya, and this is her choice, so yeah. It's good for Freya."

Klaus huffed. "But why would she lie to me?"

"She probably assumes you know. She hasn't been hiding, Klaus. She's just tired and working hard and trying to spend as much time with Keelin as she can in between all the drama lately."

"How should I approach her about it?"

Hayley rolled her eyes. "Maybe don't accuse her of lying, for one, because she didn't. Just … call Keelin her girlfriend. Use the word. Make sure she knows that you take it seriously, that you take her seriously. She's been through a lot, and she deserves this."

Klaus nodded. "I can do that." Glancing up at Hayley, he continued, "I'd ask when you got so wise, but it was definitely in that little period of time without me around."

"It's Hope's influence. She's a smart kid, and it kind of rubs off on you."

They shared a tired smile before Hayley excused herself, desperate to get what little sleep she could.

* * *

Life took over once more, leaving Klaus scrambling to protect his family. He all but forgot about the conversation with Hayley, right until he was standing in a doorway with Freya by his side, looking on as Keelin sat on the floor and played with Hope.

Their family was ending, but the sight of Hope laughing and playing with Keelin, who responded in kind … He'd be lying if he said it didn't bringing him some comfort at least.

"Your girlfriend seems nice," he told Freya, voice low.

Freya turned to him, eyes bright but sad. A fitting combination for the kind of day it was. "She really is," she said, taking his hand in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	10. Happy Anniversary (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freelin anniversary + vacation from melmbu on Tumblr (vacation also requested via Anon on Ao3! Thanks guys xx)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11, only a little late. Yay!

 

 

 

_Happy Anniversary_

 

 

 

It had been a long time since Keelin last went on vacation.

Medical professions weren't what one chose if they wanted leisure time. First there was the study, then the interning (and studying), then the residency (and studying), and then now, finally as an attending trauma surgeon, she barely had a moment to remind herself to breathe during long shifts at the hospital.

But the stars aligned and everything was truly good under their light because Freya Mikaelson was a miracle in herself who wrangled schedules and threatened chiefs of surgery until Keelin got the month off she really did need …

All in time to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary.

Which led to her lying on a chaise lounge under the Caribbean sun, the smell of salt and coconut in her nostrils as she drifted in and out of slumber.

Freya's scent reached Keelin, waking her a little, just enough for her to sit up groggily and readjust the floppy hat atop her head before Freya came into view.

"I found some rum," she said, raising the bottle. "Figured our trip wouldn't be complete without it."

"Good call," Keelin praised, tilting her head upward in invitation.

Freya dropped a kiss on her nose and said, "Glasses or no?"

"We can drink from the bottle. Gimme." Keelin grabbed the bottle, finding it already opened. Sighing, she looked up at her wife. "Really?"

"I got thirsty on the way back. Scooch over."

Keelin made room for Freya on the chaise, their thighs sticking to one another from how close they were sitting. Keelin had been soaking up the sun in a two-piece, leaving a sundress-clad Freya practically overdressed in comparison, however short her hemline.

Tasting the rum, Keelin wrinkled her nose. "It's … interesting, I guess."

"Oh, come on." Freya swiped the bottle from her. "You're a big, tough werewolf. You can handle it."

"I prefer my liquor with an cherry in it, and sugar around the rim of the glass. Don't pretend you don't as well."

Freya smirked. "True." She took a swig, only barely wincing. "But still—we're here, aren't we? We should be trying new things and sticking to them, even if we don't completely adore them."

"A good philosophy." Keelin shifted away just enough to be able to drop her head on Freya's shoulder comfortably. "Happy anniversary, my love."

A kiss was pressed into her hair in response. "Happy anniversary, Keelin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	11. Second Chance for a First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A different spin on their first kiss. If Freya hadn't stopped Keelin that night how would she get a second chance to show Keelin how she feels (from Anon. Thank you!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12! At this rate I'll hopefully catch up and be able to give the extra day to make up for Day 7, lol.

 

 

 

_Day 12: Second Chance for a First Kiss_

 

 

 

"There is always going to be a spell to do, or an enemy to fight," said Keelin, "but when that is all finished, you deserve someone who gets you."

Freya froze, caught by the way Keelin looked at her, waiting for her to say something. She tried, but nothing came out.

"I hope you find it," said Keelin, voice soft but disappointed.

_Say something. Tell her. Anything._ Nothing came out of Freya's mouth. Nothing even entered her mind, because what could she say?

Keelin left. Freya didn't stop her.

* * *

Freya braced her hands on the table, staring down at the shattered remains of the pendant. Of her brother.

She knew Elijah was inside. With Hope's help, she could see into it, could feel him in there, but she had no idea how to get him out.

Her brother was gone.

Numb to everything but the pain, Freya didn't even throw on a coat before she left. She only took her phone because she had it tucked into her back pocket to begin with.

Keelin's apartment wasn't far from the Abattoir—right between Freya's belltower and the hospital Keelin worked at. Freya had delighted in realising it when Keelin first found herself a place. Now she just wished it was closer so she didn't have to walk for twenty minutes in the freezing cold, cursing herself for not wearing a jacket.

Keelin buzzed her up to her apartment and was waiting at her door when Freya arrived. "What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning at the sight of Freya. "Are you okay?"

Blinking back tears, Freya shook her head. "I needed you."

"What happened? How can I help?"

"You can't help," said Freya. "Not like that."

"Like what? Freya, please talk to me."

Unable to stop herself, Freya stepped forward, almost nose to nose with Keelin. "I kept looking for you," she said. "It was the day from hell and everything went wrong, and every time it did I looked for you and you weren't there."

"I'm so sor—"

"It's not your fault. I told you to leave me alone. I said such awful things—"

"Not awful," said Keelin. "They were true. I was distracting you, and that's dangerous for you right now."

Freya shook her head. "Everything is dangerous right now, but I think you might be the safest danger there is."

A short bark of laughter erupted from Keelin's mouth. "That's … very depressing." She sobered quickly, stepping back to give Freya space to enter. "Come in and sit down. I want to hear about your day."

"I need to do something first."

Keelin nodded, her frown not even fully formed before Freya couldn't see it anymore because she was kissing her, lips on hers and hands coming up to rest on her jaw, cradling it. After a moment of shock Keelin responded in kind, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back to breathe, Freya said, "Thank you."

Keelin grinned. "You don't need to thank me for kissing you, Freya. I do that just as much for myself as I do for you." She took Freya's hands in hers, tugging her away from the threshold so she could close the door. "Now, tell me everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	12. First Christmas (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about future freya and keelin having a toddler daughter, said daughter kiss a toddler boy and proclaimed she'll marry him and all the uncles got funny paranoid" from Anon + Christmas with the Mikaelsons + Adoption (both from Erika) 
> 
> Thanks so much for the prompts!

 

 

_First Christmas_

 

 

 

The tree was dripping with with tinsel and gaudy baubles of every colour imaginable, all lit by the eccentric flashing of the lights strung around it like festive barbed wire.

"Well," said Rebekah, "this isn't how I imagined the tree would end up looking when I cut it down."

" _Ahem."_ Marcel sidled up beside her, nudging her hip with his. "When  _we_ cut it down."

"It's so pretty!" gushed Evie, her eyes the size of saucers just to take it in.

"It definitely is!" Rebekah agreed, though it cost her some of her reputation to do so. Rebekah did love a nice, classic Christmas tree, but she loved her nieces even more. "You'll have to give me more decorating tips in future. It's very inventive!"

Keelin grinned, observing it all from the balcony above the courtyard. Evie chirped away below, happily wedging herself between Rebekah and Marcel as she described the decorating process in agonising detail, this in spite of the fact that they'd helped her do it.

"She's still not done talking about the tree?" asked Freya, stepping up beside Keelin and covering her hand one of her own.

"Ask me on Easter," was Keelin's reply. "She's happy, though. Happier than I imagined she would be."

"Happy than you  _let_ yourself imagine she would be," Freya corrected softly. "She's been adjusting well. She loves us. Of course she's going to have an amazing first Christmas with us all here as a family."

"You're right." Evie had had a hard time adjusting during the months they'd fostered her for, but she had finally started to settle after the adoption went through. Or so Keelin hoped. "I guess I just didn't want to get my hopes up in case I was disappointed."

"Practical, but depressing. You become more like your scrubs every day."

"Hey," Keelin protested, leaning into Freya. "I save lives in those scrubs."

Freya's lips found her ear. "You could save lives in anything."

"Blah, blah, blah, the sun shines out of each other's asses, we know already," said Kol, appearing out of the sitting room and making his way down the stairs. "Don't you think you should tone down the PDA? You know, for the holidays?"

"Your wife is such a lucky woman," Keelin snarked after him, catching his infuriating smirk before he turned around and walked to the tree, reigniting Evie's interest in talking about it just by arriving.

"Isn't it pretty?" she asked.

Hefting her up, Kol agreed and asked to know more, lifting her closer so she could point out each ornament and explain its placement. The angel wasn't up yet, but it was tradition to wait until everyone arrived for that anyway.

Speaking of which …

"We're here!" announced Josie, clanging the gate at the entry open and wandering into the courtyard with her arms full of presents. She was taller than she'd been the last time they saw her, willowy but awkward in that pre-teen way. "Hiya, Evie. Nice tree."

"I did it all myself!" said Evie, wiggling her legs until Kol let her down so she could run over to Josie. "Except for the top bits which Marcel helped me do, but only because he's so big."

"That seems smart," said Josie, letting Evie lead her over to the fabled tree.

Freya nudged Keelin on her way past, saying, "Forward unto the breach," before making her way down the stairs to greet Klaus, Caroline, and the girls. Keelin trailed after her, trying her best not to do the typical grownup relative thing and tell them all how big they were getting. But Hope was up to Keelin's shoulder in height and getting taller by the day, so could she be blamed?

"An interesting arrangement," said Caroline, eyeing the tree with amusement.

"Just wait 'til she tells you about it," said Rebekah, leaning in to kiss Caroline's cheek.

"She seems happy, though," said Klaus, voice low and addressed to Freya.

"She is." Freya and Klaus exchanged some secret Mikaelson look, both seeming satisfied when they turned away.

"Hi, strangers!" said Hayley, wandering in with her arms spread wide to accept Hope, who barrelled into her immediately. Elijah came wandering in after her with a laundry basket full of gifts hoisted onto one shoulder, eyes shining like he'd already been into the eggnog.

"Evie!" said Keelin, gesturing for her daughter to come forward. "Come say hi to everyone, please. We can see the tree later."

To her credit Evie came along without complaint, smile wide and arms outstretched. There had been a time, not so long ago, when she would have been hiding under Keelin's skirt, but now she was the belle of the ball, embracing everyone in turn until only Klaus was left.

"And what about me?" said Klaus, crouching down with his arms open. "Don't I get a kiss?"

"Ew," said Evie, hugging him anyway. "Kisses are gross, especially boy ones."

A ripple of confusion ran through the gathered crowd.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" asked Freya.

"Well, Henry at school kissed me, and it was pretty yuck. Even if I do have to marry him now, I won't like it."

"Um, what?" said Caroline, voice pitching on the side of hysterical.

"What makes you think you have to marry him?" asked Keelin.

"Because you and Mommy kiss, and that's because you're married, right?"

Understanding dawned on Freya's face. "Oh, so that's why you asked me that. No, sweetie, Mommy and I don't kiss just because we're married, and we're not married because we kiss. We do both of those things because we love each other. Do you love Henry?"

Evie's nose wrinkled down the middle as she screwed up her whole face. "Not really. He smells like cheese all the time, and even though Daisy says that might be okay I don't really like cheese so I think it's pretty gross. But he said that it meant we were married after we kissed, so he probably thinks we're married."

"You're most certainly not," said Klaus, hackles evidently raised.

"Calm down, they're six," Caroline hissed under her breath, soft enough for Evie not to hear.

"Evie, sweetie, you don't have to do anything you don't want to," said Keelin. She wondered briefly if they should be having this conversation in private, but they lived in a family full of nosy people with enhance senses so there wasn't any real point. "If you don't want to kiss Henry, you say no. And if Henry doesn't listen to you—"

"—you tell Uncle Kol, and he'll take care of business for you." Kol grinned as he said it.

"They're children, so there will be no 'taking care of business'," Freya announced, staring her little brother down.

"Definitely," said Rebekah. "Especially not when Auntie Beks is the obvious choice."

Caroline released a bark of laughter before getting herself under control, smothering her mouth with the back of her hand.

* * *

Keelin found herself back up on the balcony later, watching the fire burn low in the pit Kol had made, the ashes of all their wishes among it. The usual wish-making ceremony had involved more tears this year after Evie announced loudly and repeatedly that she didn't know what to wish for because she had only ever wished for a home before, and now she had one. She's eventually written "chocolate cake" on her card, but that had only been after extensive prompting from both Freya and Keelin.

Last year, Keelin had wished for a child.

Taking a sip of her eggnog, Keelin felt herself relax even more, if such a thing were possible. She didn't get much time off, not with a job like hers, but spending the time she did have free like this … it was perfect. As someone that had once had no family at all, Keelin needed this.

"Hope is good with her," said Keelin, sensing Klaus lingering behind her.

"Yes," he agreed, stepping up beside her. "She wants her to feel comfortable."

"Boy kisses are gross," Evie was saying down below.

Hope nodded her agreement. "They can be sometimes, you're right."

Unable to stop her grin, Keelin turned to face Klaus. "Sweet as that is, it does beg the question," she began, leadingly. "How does she know?"

Klaus turned white so fast Keelin almost thought he was desiccating, and her laughter followed him down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	13. I Do, Eventually (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Freya and Keelin wedding of their dreams turned hilariously disastrous like cake falling down, Freya's brothers made her late to the ceremony, a dress was on fire, that kind of thing" from ugaddan on FF.net

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 14, another with the whole gang! Not gonna lie, I'm loving writing the family dynamics sans supernatural drama.

 

 

 

_I Do, Eventually_

 

 

 

 

Keelin Malraux wasn't a nervous kind of woman.

She was level-headed, the kind of person you wanted patching people up in a warzone or taking charge of a mass trauma. It was her job to be in control, to be helpful, to be purposeful in everything about herself from her tone to her approach to her steady hands.

Shit, her hands were shaking.

Balling them into fists so hard that her manicured nails dug into her palms, Keelin took several deep breaths and looked in the mirror. Her dress was sleek silk, strapless and with a belt of diamonds beneath the bust that matched the tiara and veil-combo resting in her hair. She desperately wanted to scratch her face but her makeup was immaculate and she'd been warned not to touch it so many times it was drilled into her at this point.

"Everything is fine!" chirped Caroline, breezing in in a knee-length dress the same cherry red as her eyes were almost turning. Caroline was definitely a nervous kind of woman. "I'm just not getting through to the boys right now. They must be driving through a tunnel or something, but they'll be here. Soon."

"There are no tunnels between here and the hotel."

Caroline stared at Keelin blankly for a moment, then sprung back to life, waving her phone in her hand. "I'm gonna try again." She breezed away, heels clacking as she walked down the staircase. Keelin only heard snatches of the voicemail she left; they would have been entertaining if she wasn't trying not to vomit.

"Kol Mikaelson, I swear to god if you don't pick up your phone I'm finding a dagger … okay, that was uncalled for … but I will  _murder_ you  _to death_  if you ruin this wedding … I've already had to spend a week drying out all the tables and chairs after the first venue flooded … honestly everything about this has been a disaster …"

Everything would be fine, Keelin told herself. Even if Freya was late, even if half their guests left before she arrived, even if they had to compel the priest to stay as long as they needed, everything would be fine. Only the vows mattered. Only the marriage. The rest was just wallpaper on their otherwise sturdy house.

She hoped.

Caroline returned, looking unruffled. "I just left Kol a voicemail, and I'm sure he'll be getting back to me."

"Why Kol and not the others?"

"Because whatever's going on, it's probably his fault."

Keelin laughed despite herself. "Maybe we're too harsh on him."

"Doubtful."

* * *

" _What do you mean you don't have the rings?"_

Kol raised his hands innocently. "In my defense, I …" He deflated. "I have no defense, I just thought you'd interrupt me before I had to come up with one."

Freya threw a pillow at his head, part of her wishing it was a knife.

"Calm down, everything will be fine," said Elijah, stepping between them to stop the violence. "Kol—where did you last see it?"

"I know I had the box last night at least."

"Why did you take it out of your room?" asked Freya. "You were supposed to leave it there until this morning!"

Kol muttered his response too quietly for Freya to hear it, but Elijah's reaction told her that she didn't want to know.

"Find them, now!" she said, not caring if she was screeching anymore. She was supposed to have arrived at the venue half an hour ago, but they'd all been hungover after the bachelorette party last night because Klaus just couldn't not bring what amounted to a keg-full of scotch—

"Hang on," she said. "Where's Klaus?"

"Right here, love," said Klaus, strolling in. He was still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but Freya hardly noticed as her gaze zeroed in on the box in his hand.

"That better be what I think it is."

"Yes, Freya, it's the rings," said Klaus passing the box to her. "I even rinsed them off under the tap out back."

"Rinsed them off?" asked Freya, flipping the box open to inspect them. "Why?"

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Kol didn't tell you? We—"

"I don't want to know," Freya announced. "I don't want to know if it was blood or bodily fluids—"

"It was just dirt," said Kol, sounding offended.

Freya groaned. " _Why_ would you—you know what, never mind. Elijah, please rinse these off in soap so they don't smell weird when Keelin sees them at the altar."

"But I'm in charge of the rings!" Kol whined, staring covetously at the box now in Elijah's possession.

"Not until we reach the venue, you're not," Elijah replied. "I'll make sure Klaus is dressed; sister, go reapply your lipstick. You've bitten it off."

Cursing, Freya scurried to do just that.

* * *

"They're ten minutes away, people!" Caroline announced, poking her head into the bathroom where Hayley was having Keelin perch on the edge of the bathtub and breathe into a paper bag. "God, where can I get me one of those?"

Hayley glared at Caroline. "You don't need to do breathing exercises; you're not getting married. They also don't work on you."

"Yeah, I can never get them right. Meditation is a nightmare too—"

"I think the people down there are getting antsy," said Rebekah, appearing in the doorway. "At least tell me they're close, or I'll have to go to the house and kick their asses myself."

"They're coming," said Caroline. "I already yelled at Kol, but you're welcome to do it next."

Rebekah sighed. "Whatever's going on, it's probably his fault."

"Either that or Klaus chucked a tantrum," said Hayley.

"He wouldn't do that today," Caroline protested.

Keelin took her mouth out of the paper bag and said, "Thanksgiving 2019."

Caroline deflated. "Good point."

Every vampire in the room stiffened, listening carefully. "I think they're here," said Caroline, disappearing in a whirl.

"I'll go help her get them all set up," said Rebekah.

Hayley watched Rebekah go, then turned to Keelin and covered her hands with her own, the paper bag crinkling in their joined grip. "I told you," she said, hazel eyes warm. "Your pack is taking care of it."

"Hayley, I love you," said Keelin, "but please don't call those yahoos my pack right before I walk down the aisle. I just got my makeup done and I can't afford to cry."

"Because you're happy or because you're terrified?"

"A bit of both."

"Ah, the Mikaelson way," Hayley agreed sagely. "Come on, let's go refresh your lip gloss."

* * *

"Kol, what the hell?" Caroline was demanding before they'd even gotten out of the car.

"Hey! How do you know it was my fault?" Kol complained.

"It  _was_ your fault," said Klaus, brushing past Kol to kiss his wife. "Hello, my love."

Caroline swatted him away. "Don't kiss me, it's distracting. We have to get you all inside and in your places, stat."

Kol snickered. " _Stat_? You really like being in charge, don't you Caroline—"

"Shut up and do as she says," Klaus bit back, pulling Kol into the building.

"You feeling okay?" Caroline asked Freya, eyes raking over her suit.

"I'm fine," Freya assured her. "Let's go."

* * *

They shouldn't have been taking this long. Something must be wrong.

Keelin paced the length of the room she'd been given to prepare in, buzzing with nervous energy. She twisted her engagement ring around her finger, the moonstone shimmering in the candlelight. She didn't know why they needed so many candles all the time, but apparently that was a fundamental part of the Mikaelson aesthetic.

Finally, Rebekah arrived at the door. "It's time," she said, perhaps a little more ominously than she intended to.

"You good?" Hayley asked, double-checking.

"Great," Keelin reassured her. "Let get started—"

The scent of smoke hit her nose a moment after it hit Rebekah's, and thank god for vampire reflexes because in moments she was pulled away from the candle that had started licking the end of her veil.

"Oh, god," said Keelin, trying to see the damage in the mirror. "Is it bad?"

"Unwearable. But don't worry!" said Rebekah, disappearing into the bathroom and reappearing with a pair of nail scissors. "I can cut the veil away from the tiara and leave it in place so we don't mess up your hair."

Keelin nodded, close to tears. "Just do it."

"It's fine, Keelin," Hayley said, taking her hand again while Rebekah set to work. "You'll be fine."

"I know, I know. It just feels like everything is going wrong."

"Everything goes wrong until it goes right. It's just the way this family works, you know?"

Keelin nodded again, drawing a curse from Rebekah. "Hold still, please."

Doing as she was told, Keelin stood frozen until the veil fell away. "There we go," said Rebekah. "Looks lovely!"

She was right, Keelin had to admit. Everything would be fine.

"Okay," said Hayley, gripping her hand a little tighter. "Let's get going."

* * *

The vows were every bit as beautiful as Keelin was. Freya was amazed that she even remembered hers because the moment Keelin appeared at the end of the aisle she was left entirely speechless.

They sat beside one another at the table during the reception, eating off of one another's plates and out of each other's fingers. Kol didn't make a comment about their PDA even once, though that may have been because he was too busy looking at Davina in her emerald green dress. (Or because this was their wedding, the one place where they were unequivocally allowed to show PDA.)

"Cake time!" Caroline announced, brandishing the biggest knife Keelin had ever seen. And she'd seen a lot of knives.

Keelin and Freya walked over to the cake table hand-in-hand, observing the towering monstrosity Caroline had ordered. They'd tasted dozens to find the flavour they wanted, but they hadn't anticipated it being this big.

Caroline handed them the knife and turned to grab some plates from the cart to set them on the table next to the cake. A creaking started up, making Keelin frown and cast a look to the floorboards—

It wasn't the floorboards. It was the cake table.

With another groaning complaint, the table legs gave out, dropping the cake onto the floor.

Silence.

"Well," said Freya, "I guess we should've checked the tables for water damage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	14. Fleur-de-lis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Freelin trip to Mystic Falls, as requested by Erika (thank you!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another! This could be considered a loose continuation of the wedding prompt, if one were so inclined.

 

 

 

_Day 15: Fleur-de-lis_

 

 

 

Never in a million years would Freya have imagined she'd be spending her honeymoon in Mystic Falls.

And perhaps it wasn't her honeymoon, technically, but it was the period of time between her honeymoon in France and returning to her regular life in New Orleans, so it probably counted.

"God, this place is ridiculous," said Keelin, voicing Freya's thoughts exactly. It was the house Klaus had built for his family years ago, back before he and Hayley had met, when hybrids were his main priority. It was grander than it had any right to be while housing five people, as it had been intended to at the time.

"Let's just get in and out as quickly as possible," Freya told her, squeezing her hand on her way past. "Mikaelsons aren't exactly welcome in Mystic Falls."

Freya unlocked the door with the key she'd stolen from Klaus, the creak of the wood as she opened it echoing throughout the empty house. It was eerie, walking into the colossal parlour with its grand staircase and chandelier hanging overhead.

"Your brother is so extra," said Keelin, rolling her eyes as she stepped inside. She seemed hilariously out of place in jeans and a peach-coloured blouse.

"It's all so empty." Freya craned her neck as she walked forward, wandering into an adjacent ballroom. Dust floated through the air like a living thing, caught in the rays of sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"I imagine it felt empty when they lived here, too," Keelin agreed.

"Probably." It wasn't a secret that this period in her siblings' lives hadn't been a pleasant one. Freya only wished she'd been here …

Keelin slipped her hand into Freya's, tugging her back the way they came. "Which way did Rebekah say Elijah's room was again?"

"Upstairs and to the left. She said we'd know it when we saw it."

They followed Bekah's instructions, traipsing up the marble staircase and padding over the lush carpet lining the corridors upstairs. They entered two rooms before they found Elijah's, kitted out in his favourite shade of blue and royal purple and with a straightforward and simplistic sense to it. A quick peek into the cupboard was all that was needed to confirm that it was Elijah's, all suits hanging up one after another.

"Okay," said Keelin, rubbing her hands together and pulling drawers open until she found what she needed. "What did Kol say about the pocket square again?"

"Dark crimson brocade."

"There are … at least five here that could fit that description. I'll just grab them all. It's not like we can ask him which was his favourite if we're finding it for him for his birthday."

Freya nodded, barely listening as she ran a hand over one of the suits. "I wonder why he left them here. He takes his suits so seriously."

"Must've been in a hurry to leave and get to New Orleans when he learned Klaus had gone back."

"And then Klaus daggered him."

"Yeah, that." Keelin pressed herself closer to Freya, resting her chin on her shoulder. "Maybe we should—" She stiffened, drawing back. "Someone's pulling up."

Freya closed the wardrobe quickly, marching down the stairs with Keelin at her back. She should've been more careful, should've parked out back and checked all the exits before she came in—

It was a police vehicle with only one occupant, Freya saw as she crossed the threshold. Someone she vaguely recognised …

"Sheriff," Keelin greeted, noting the badge pinned to his chest. "What brings you out here?"

"He knows Rebekah," said Freya, finally placing him. "I've seen him in photos with her from one of her trips around the world."

"I do know her," he confirmed. "And you are?"

"Freya Mikaelson. Unless I'm mistaken, this home is still my family's property."

The sheriff raised his hands innocently. "I'm just here to make sure everything's okay. I got a call from the neighbours saying that someone was here, and I just thought I'd check it out."

"Slow day?" Freya asked, eyes narrowing.

"We should go," Keelin interjected, hand coming down to clasp Freya's fist. "We have a long drive ahead of us. It was nice seeing you, Sheriff. Thanks for keeping an eye on the house."

"I keep an eye on the town; the house happens to be in the town."

"Were you keeping an eye on your town when you killed my brother?" asked Freya. "It was you, wasn't it? Matt Donovan, still practically a child when you staked Finn, who did nothing to deserve it."

"I was looking out for my friends," he said. "We were all looking out for people we cared about back then, just like we are now. And if I'm not mistaken, he did come back to life."

"Freya," Keelin said more firmly. "Let's get going."

Staring down the sheriff, Freya weighed her options. She wanted to provoke him, she really did. Anything to get back for what he did to Finn …

But he had a gun, and she had a wife, and Freya wasn't happy with the way those two elements might end up interacting.

"You're right," she said, tearing her gaze away from Donovan's and looking at Keelin. "You get the car started; I'll lock up."

"Good seeing you both," said Donovan. "Congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you," said Keelin, sounding sincere.

Freya finished locking up and joined Keelin at the car, eyeing the Sheriff as she passed. She didn't like him, he didn't like her, but nothing had to come of it. She wasn't Klaus, after all.

And it wasn't like she could blame him. His only experience with her family was the version of them that had lived in that empty house. They hadn't exactly been their best selves back then.

Keelin drove when they left, leaving Freya to stew in the passenger seat. She grabbed the pocket squares from where Keelin had stuffed them to look them over.

"It's this one," she announced, picking one out and dropping the others onto her lap. "This is his favourite."

"How can you tell?"

Freya ran her thumbs over the pattern in the brocade, the recurring fleur-de-lis. One of the most recurring symbols in New Orleans. "I just can."

"Okay, then," Keelin said, no hint of doubt in her tone. "We'd best get back home."

And so they continued on, past the LEAVING MYSTIC FALLS sign and out onto the open road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is half-written already (and probably the only m/m prompt I'll fill this month), but I'm still accepting prompts for others! You can request whatever ship you like, as long as it's gay and they're not related or underage.


	15. All Due Respect (Klosh)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All due respect, but that's a bunch of crap" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16, and a pairing I've never imagined writing for before, so here's some Klaus/Josh! (And mustbetime, I'll get to your prompt next so thanks for sending it in!)

 

 

 

 

_All Due Respect_

 

 

 

 

A homicidal vampire-werewolf hybrid walked into a bar.

That's it. That's the end of the joke.

Josh wasn't inclined to laugh at someone that had snapped his neck before, primarily because he had something called respect for his own life. In pursuit of this respect, he didn't let the joke formulate beyond a simple statement of what had just occurred.

It had been a long time since Josh had seen Klaus out and about in New Orleans. Five years of no Mikaelsons was a blessing Josh hadn't taken for granted, enjoying his life with Marcel and the bar and his boyfriend.

Well, he wouldn't be enjoying anything with his boyfriend anymore, because his boyfriend wasn't his boyfriend. But he was trying not to think about that.

"Hey, Steph," said Josh, grabbing the attention of the only other worker there that night. "You can take off early. I'll close up in a bit."

"You sure?" she asked.

Josh rolled his eyes and gestured around the room, empty but for two regulars at the back and Klaus sauntering over to the bar. "I think I can manage the 1am rush. Go home and get some sleep."

"Yes, boss!" she said, already halfway out the door.

Having no excuse not to, Josh finally turned to face Klaus, bracing his hands against the bar. "What can I get for you?"

Klaus slid onto a barstool right across from Josh. "Bourbon. Neat."

"I don't suppose you'd like to order that to-go?"

"And deprive you of my company? I'm not that cruel."

Sighing, Josh grabbed the cheapest bourbon they had a poured Klaus a glass. "I'm surprised you didn't have some on hand at home."

"I do, but I don't drink while my daughter is in the house." He accepted the glass from Josh, sipping at it and wrinkling his nose at the taste. "This is awful."

Josh shrugged, not the least bit sorry. He grabbed one of the cleaning rags and wet it under the tap, setting about the usual process of wiping down the bar. Upon reaching Klaus's patch of it he had to dodge the man's arms, which didn't move an inch.

"I don't suppose there's no nefarious reason you've come here to drink instead of going to any of the other hundreds of bars in this city?"

Klaus smirked. "I'd heard you'd branched out into bar ownership. Thought I'd come by to see how you're doing in your new leadership role."

"Just fine, thanks. Why do you care again?"

"I needed a distraction. Marcel isn't speaking to me, and my family are all indisposed with this Hollow business."

"And you aren't?"

"There is nothing I can contribute at the present moment."

Josh stared him down for a moment, then snorted. "You're here to sulk."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know the type, I know the look, and I know you. You're here to sulk, and because you want someone to talk to while you do it." It had been Cami in his shoes, once upon a time, both tending to the bar and to Klaus. Steeling himself to look past Klaus's glower, Josh continued, "You can talk if you want, you know. I might not like you, but I loved Cami. She'd want you to talk."

The glare slipped at the mention of Cami, leaving Klaus blank-faced for a moment before he regained control. "As you're well aware, an ancient force is trying to destroy my family."

"When is that not the case?"

"This is different. Hope's at the center of it, and I can't—" He balled his hand into a fist. "I can't protect her. Not like I want to."

"The rest of your family can help. You guys are the most powerful people in this city, other than Marcel. Unless you still count Marcel as a part of your family? Honestly, I'm behind on that dynamic. Regardless, if you can't do this, no one can and we're all screwed anyway, so don't worry about it."

"Camille was far better at this than you."

"Probably," said Josh, accepting it. "But I'm the one here right now, trying my best to be understanding or whatever."

Klaus scoffed. "You couldn't possibly understand my family."

"All due respect—which is none, by the way—but that's a bunch of crap. You don't have the monopoly on complicated family situations. At least yours sticks around. My parents kicked me out the second they found out I liked dudes, and my boyfriend kicked me out the second he found out I like blood. When I went to visit my big brother for the first time in six years he wouldn't let me in the front door. Apparently he didn't want me around his kids, you know, because I'm a perverted homo."

Klaus went quiet for a moment. "Your brother is a fool."

"Not disagreeing. I'm just saying, families are the worst sometimes, but yours? I'd kill for one like yours. You're all still here for each other, and you're here  _because_ of each other. Even if it ends now, isn't this enough? A thousand years of the strongest family bond the world has ever seen?"

"My daughter hasn't had a thousand years."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to give it to her. If anyone can, it's you, so stop moping around and drinking to solve your problems."

"I'm an expert drinker; it's what we do."

"Yeah, that's not being an expert. That's alcoholism. I can give you a flyer about it if you want."

Klaus laughed, the first real one Josh had ever heard from him. "I'm not having more than one drink at a time until this is all over, so I doubt I'll need to attend any meetings."

"Not for your drinking, anyway," Josh commented, returning to wiping down the bar. "Homicidal Tendencies Anonymous, maybe."

Sometime during their talking, the two regulars at the back had left, meaning that he was now alone with the most dangerous person he knew. Great.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those meetings," said Klaus, sipping at his terrible bourbon. "I can't stand drinking from styrofoam cups."

"I don't think that's a requirement, but okay." Josh finished up with the bar, then headed around to start stacking chairs up onto the tables. Once he finished with every chair and stool but the one Klaus was on, he started turning off the lights in the back. "I don't suppose you'll be finished up soon?"

Klaus raised his glass, only a centimetre of bourbon still left in the bottom. "I could stretch this out for some time if I wanted to."

"I could lock you in here if I wanted to."

"I could shatter the glass door open if I wanted to."

Josh rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get my things. Hurry up."

"Do you treat all your paying customers like this?" Klaus called after him as he walked to the back of the bar.

"You haven't paid yet!" Josh shot back as he headed into the storeroom to grab his hoodie, phone, and wallet. By the time he came back out there were several bills on the bar for him to swipe up, and Klaus's glass was empty. He set it in the sink, resolving to wash it the next day. He didn't usually do that, but right now he was just focused on shutting up the shop and getting home.

"I'll walk you out," said Josh, almost propelling Klaus toward the door. "Just to make sure you get to the street safely."

"Because something about me screams 'damsel in distress'."

"Just go, already," said Josh, hitting the last of the lights. Klaus did as he asked, heading outside with his hands deep in his pockets.

Josh finished locking up, left on the street with Klaus. "You headed home or finding another bar to mope at?"

"I doubt I'd find such stellar service at any other establishment, and I'd hate to be let down."

"Oh, of course," Josh scoffed.

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't you afraid of me anymore?"

"Why should I be? You already killed me once, when I was human."

Klaus winced. "Ah, that was—"

"Don't apologise. You're not sorry, and neither am I. The compulsion afterwards sucked more, to be honest."

"Am I allowed to apologise for that?"

"Would it be sincere?"

Klaus shrugged. "I did what I had to do. That doesn't mean I don't regret the fact that I had to do it."

Josh considered him for a moment, arms folded over his chest. "Hope's really changed you, hasn't she?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I'm still who I've always been. I just have a reason to showcase my more merciful side when she's around."

"She's not around now. You seem pretty merciful to me."

Something angry flickered behind Klaus's eyes, there and then gone. "So I've been tamed, then, is that it?"

"I'd say so, yeah." He snorted at the look stealing over Klaus's face. "You really don't like that, huh? What are you gonna do about it? Kill me again?"

Klaus looked him dead in the eye, nothing about him shying away. "Not exactly."

And then he was kissing him.

Maybe it was something to do with the abject terror Josh had experienced previously, but he'd never really noticed that Klaus was  _shorter_ than him until now, feeling the kiss pressing upwards at him.

It tasted like bourbon and blood, and then it was over.

"What the hell was that?" asked Josh, a little woozy.

Klaus stepped back, putting some distance between them as he grinned. "Am I allowed to apologise for that, then?"

"No," Josh said, and pulled him in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	16. When You Know, You Know (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about Keelin asks Freya when did she first know she liked her. Then Freya ask Keelin when she started to have feelings for her" from mustbetime (I realised I switched them around a little too late, so sorry about that lol)

 

 

 

 

_When You Know, You Know_

 

 

 

 

 

"The first time I knew I liked you," said Keelin, finger drawing circles over Freya's bare shoulder from where she lay behind her in the bed, "was when you melted those guys' brains about two minutes after waking up from a five-year-long slumber party with your family."

"Nice," said Freya. "And when you realised you loved me?"

"The morning after our first time."

Freya snorted and rolled onto her back, breaking the warm spoon-situation they'd had going so she could look Keelin in the eye. "You mean the morning when you thought I was going to run away?"

"Yeah, that." Keelin burrowed her head into the pillow, resting her leg under Freya's. "I saw you there and I just knew that I loved you and I would follow you anywhere."

Freya gestured around the room. "And you have, all the way to Massachusetts."

"Mhmm. And what about you? When did you know you loved me?"

"Well, I knew I  _liked_ you as soon as I met you. It might've been complicated and gross considering that Hayley was holding you captive, but you were so … unfazed.

"And I guess I knew I  _loved_ you after that night of the party at my house, when Elijah killed those guys right in front of you and you didn't even blink. I spent the whole time terrified that my family would show their true colours and you'd spook, and when they did you were so calm."

Keelin couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face if she'd wanted to. "So what you're saying is that it turns you on when I'm cool under pressure?"

"There's more to love than being turned on," Freya argued, cheeks flaming. "But yeah, a little."

Keelin wriggled closer. "Is that why you like to visit me at work when I'm running the ER?"

"Can't I just want to bring you decent coffee like a good wife?"

"Not when I have this new information about you you can't," Keelin replied.

Freya covered her face with her hands, groaning. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Why? Are you going to hassle me about it?" Keelin drew Freya's hair away from her neck and pressed a kiss just under her ear. "Because you know how well I handle pressure."

" _Ungh."_  Freya tilted her head back as Keelin pressed a trail of kisses to her jaw. "Yeah, okay, you win."

It was hard to kiss while both parties were laughing, but they gave it a good go, exploding apart to giggle but always coming back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	17. Smitten (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe one of then been in a weelchair when they first meet? Paralyzed from the waist down?" from Erika (Thank you so much! LOVE disabled headcanons and prompts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 18, a little late but no lesser for it.

 

 

 

 

_Smitten_

 

 

 

 

Freya grunted, lifting the box onto her lap. She sliced through the tape with a boxcutter and opened it up, finding the tiny glass vials all unbroken. Thank god.

She went about setting them on the shelves, careful to maneuver her chair around the empty boxes. She made sure to stack neatly and evenly, everything with its assigned label. Kol had already stacked the higher shelves an hour ago before he left, and done a sloppy job of it, too, but Freya had long since given up on having them orderly. They were his domain; she had her own zone to keep nice and clean, and she had let it go.

The bell above the door tinkled, drawing Freya out from the aisle as she tossed the now empty box aside. "Hi," she greeted, finding a woman wearing a beaming smile and a pair of scrubs standing by the entrance. "Can I help you with anything?"

The woman cast a furtive look around before stepping forward. "I was hoping I could grab a protection spell from you. I'm happy to pay handsomely for it."

Feyre nodded slowly. It wasn't often that they got customers that actually believed in this stuff, or at least knew what to ask for. Most were humans experimenting with sigils and herbal teas, not strange doctors looking for protection spells. "One you can cast yourself?" Freya asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'll need someone else to do it. I'm happy to pay for the service, of course, or I can find my own witch."

So she wasn't a witch, then. "No, I can do it. What type of protection spell were you hoping for?"

"One on my residence, primarily, but I'm happy to see what other options you have."

Freya wheeled herself behind the counter, kicking the office chair Kol used out of the way. The counter had to be at desk height for her, and he'd been more than happy to sit down when he was at the register.

Muttering a quick unlocking spell, Freya opened one of the drawers beneath the counter and found what she was looking for. "How many entrances do you have to your home?"

"A front and back door, but the windows are pretty big."

"Doesn't matter what their size is, just their purpose. Places intended for entry and exit are the ones to focus on." Freya pulled up two small wreaths made of sticks and twine. "If you hang these above your doors once they're activated, no one can cross into your home. They'll seal it against anyone who wishes you harm, no matter how they try to get in."

"And how much would that cost?"

"About two hundred, including the consultation. My brother and I can come over and take care of it for you tonight if you want."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, already pulling two hundred-dollar bills out of her purse.

Freya looked her up and down. "If you tell me who you're hiding from, I might be able to provide some more specialised assistance."

"I'm not hiding," she argued. "Just preparing."

Nodding, Freya said, "Aren't we all?" She stuffed the two wreaths into a canvas bag and passed them to the woman. "You can put them in place, just hang them above your doorway. My brother and I won't even need to come into your house to activate the spell."

"It's fine if you want to," the woman said, her smile tentative. "I mean, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to come in."

Freya found herself caught by the woman's gaze, her cheeks flaring with heat. "Okay, then," she said, clearing her throat. "If I can just grab your address, we'll be over there tonight."

The woman fished a business card out of her pocket, setting it onto the counter. Frowning, Freya picked it up, finding a name, number, and address. "You're a doctor?" she asked.

"I work with supernaturals a lot," explained Dr. Malraux. "They can't always come find me in the emergency room, hence the address I give out like candy on Halloween. You can come over whenever. I don't have a shift tonight, so I'll be there."

"Will do," Freya confirmed, finding herself caught by the woman's dazzling smile once more. Who smiled like that while talking about having a heavy-duty protection spell put on their home?

"See you later, then," said Dr. Malraux, before making her way out.

Freya stared after her for a moment, then picked up her phone, wondering if there was a way to get through this without Kol mocking her for how obviously smitten she was already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	18. The Green-Eyed Monster (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about a jelous freya?" from Shae on Ao3 + "Would love it if you could write one about Keelin getting jealous maybe? Maybe the Mikaelson siblings laughiing at the whole situation afterwards" from a Guest on FF.net

 

 

_T_ _he Green-Eyed Monster_

 

 

Elijah didn't consider himself prone to jealousy.

He knew his worth, the worth of his partners, and suffered no particular preoccupation with interference from outside sources. What was meant to happen would happen, and Elijah was rarely blindsided by the end of any relationship he committed to.

That didn't mean he didn't find jealousy hysterical to observe in others.

"It wasn't a big deal," Keelin insisted, tipping the bowl of chopped onions into the pan. "I mean, she was in a good mood, I was in a good mood, and so was the waiter, so we were all friendly with each other."

Elijah folded his arms over his chest and leant back against the counter. "And yet something in your tone suggests that it was a bigger deal than you're willing to admit."

"Not really." Keelin took the spatula he passed her and used it to push the onion around in the oil. "Like I said, it's no big deal. We're friendly people, the waiter was a friendly person—"

"But it was your anniversary dinner, and you were supposed to be spending it being friendly with each other."

Keelin sighed. "Yeah, we were."

"And you've yet to discuss this with Freya?"

"I didn't want to make things seem weird, like I don't trust her, because I do. Really, I do. It was still kind of awkward."

"Were you envious of the attention she gave the waiter?"

Keelin's grip on the spatula tightened. "It wasn't inappropriate, and I don't want to say anything in case it makes her feel like she can't be nice to people. That's ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous."

"You can't help how you feel," advised Elijah. "Perhaps you should speak with her."

"No, I'm fine. I should be here cooking anyway. It's my turn on the roster."

"It's  _our_ turn, and I think people would prefer their onions unburnt."

Keelin looked down at the pan, cursing and taking it off the heat as it started to smoke.

Elijah stepped forward, taking the spatula from her smoothly and pushing her back from the stovetop. "Go and speak with your wife. I'll take care of the onions."

Wringing her hands in her apron, Keelin said, "You sure?"

Elijah stabbed the charred mess with the spatula. "Positive."

* * *

Rebekah had once told Klaus that he was born jealous. He'd disagreed at the time, but he had perspective now that he hadn't then and he could acknowledge that jealousy was a fundamental part of himself. It was just his job to manage it.

Apparently it was now his job to manage other people's, too.

"And she just kept drawing the waiter's attention to her," said Freya, hands tight around her glass of scotch. "I don't understand what it was about."

"Are you jealous?"

"What? No. I trust her."

"And I trust Caroline. That doesn't mean my blood doesn't boil when she attends functions on Matt Donovan's arm."

"That's different," Freya argued. "They dated when they were younger. I'm pretty sure Keelin never slept with our waiter from last night."

"You know the point I'm trying to make, Freya. Trust doesn't mean no suspicion or concern. It means that you rationalise that concern with your reality, and come to a healthy conclusion." At the incredulous look Freya shot him, Klaus continued, "Therapy has been helpful."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I—"

"Hey, babe." Keelin wandered in, still wearing her apron. "Can we talk for a sec?"

"Yeah, of course," Freya said, shooting up from her chair.

"No, talk here, in comfort," said Klaus, standing and ushering Keelin over to where he was. "I'll go and check on the kitchen. I smell smoke."

"It's all Elijah's fault!" Keelin called after him as he left.

He found Kol on the stairs, leaning against the wall and pretending to play with his phone.

"Don't eavesdrop," Klaus scolded. "It's poor manners."

"That's me—Mr. Manners." Kol cracked a smile. "You have to admit, it's pretty funny.

Gripping him by the shoulder, Klaus steered Kol downstairs, trying his damnedest not to listen to the conversation himself. "But we will not laugh in their hearing. It's a serious matter in a relationship."

"Oh, please. They'll be fine. Half the waitresses we get flirt with me and Davina doesn't care. Thinks it's funny, more like."

"And would you return the favour? Shrug it away as humorous?"

"Can you imagine me doing anything else?"

"Good point."

* * *

Kol let Klaus drag him into the kitchen where Elijah was chopping up another onion.

"What have you done now?" Elijah asked, eyeing Klaus's iron grip on Kol's shoulder.

"Nothing," Kol protested, shrugging his brother's hand away.

"He was going to eavesdrop on their private conversation."

"Like it's a big deal. They're both being ridiculous anyway."

Elijah shook his head. "Regardless of how we feel, it's important to respect their boundaries."

"Yeah, yeah." Kol huffed, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. "You should've seen Keelin's face when she walked up there, though. So nervous."

"Jealousy doesn't play a huge role in their relationship," said Klaus. "Leave them be."

"Oh, come on," said Kol, looking to Elijah. "You can't seriously tell me you don't find it a little funny. Nothing's going to come of it, but both of them thinking the other one was flirting—"

"It has a certain poetry to it," Elijah agreed, "so long as we are certain that neither of them will suffer for it."

Klaus chuckled. "Freya was insisting that she wasn't jealous, but god her mind was churning."

"Keelin was much the same."

Unable to stop himself, Kol let out another bark of laughter.

"What are we all laughing at?" asked Rebekah, striding into the kitchen while in the middle of shrugging off her coat. "The fact that Elijah seems to only be cooking onion for our dinner?"

"It's burgers, and I'm pre-cooking the onion so we can use the pan for the meat."

"And in answer to the question you really cared about," began Kol, "Freya and Keelin spent their anniversary dinner both worried that the waiter was flirting with the other one."

Rebekah's eyebrows shot up. "Are they fighting about it?"

"No," Klaus assured her. "Just insisting they're not jealous while obviously being green with it. We've left them upstairs to talk."

"Oh, well that's fine then," Rebekah concluded, tossing her coat at Kol. "And I hope no one's particularly hungry, because at this rate we'll never get to cooking the meat."

Elijah frowned, confused, and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the onion start smoking. "Shit!" He moved like lightning, taking it off the heat as the oil spat at him.

"Again, really?" Keelin asked from the doorway. She wandered in with Freya trailing behind her, linked by their hands. Apparently they'd sorted things out. "I thought you were a better cook than this."

"I'm a chef," said Elijah. "And yes, usually, I am. Something's going on with—" He froze, staring at the dials along the side of the stove that controlled the temperature.

The dials Kol had spent the morning fiddling with to make it look like the heat was always lower than it actually was.

Elijah turned to face him in slow motion, the exasperation in his gaze quickly turning to something else. His eyes shone for one moment, assessing Kol, and then he pounced, chasing him through the house to the sound of everyone's laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	19. Mama's Home (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Freelin magical baby is born. Freya is alone with the newborn child and talks to him or her about how her life has changed since she met Keelin" from @mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 20!

 

 

 

_Mama's Home_

 

 

 

Freya woke to screaming.

It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it wouldn't be the last, but this particular kind of screaming wasn't something she minded as much as the usual.

Sitting up in bed, Freya waited to hear Keelin walking around. It was mid-afternoon and she'd gone down for a much-needed nap, Keelin having assured her she was fine to watch the baby.

The crying continued and there was no sign of Keelin, so Freya eased herself out of bed and pulled a robe around her shoulders. She was just about to leave the room when she spotted the note on the nightstand.

_Out to get ingredients for dinner. Shouldn't be too long._

_xx K_

Freya smiled at the note, setting it down on the bed and heading for the nursery across the hall.

"Hi, baby," she said, reaching into the crib and pulling little James up onto her chest. He was only two weeks old, the tiniest thing she'd ever seen. "What're you fussing about, huh?"

The crying stopped once they were settled into the rocking chair. "I guess it's pretty scary to wake up all by yourself," Freya continued, rocking back and forth. "But Mama's just out getting food for us. Well, food for me and her, but I guess whatever I eat ends up feeding you, too."

James looked up at her silently, his big blue eyes glassy with the tears that had been flowing before she arrived. She set about wiping his face with her sleeve, cleaning him up.

"She's pretty good to us, your mama. She makes sure we eat and sleep really well, and she does the shopping when we're sleepy and sore. Giving birth and being born is pretty scary for both of us, but Mama is on top of it, isn't she?"

It was the truth. Keelin had been fearless in the delivery room, a rock for Freya to cling through for each contraction. Even when she was so exhausted she could barely think, Freya knew that Keelin was there, and it would all be fine. And after, when the exhaustion plagued her for days on end, Keelin was always there.

"It isn't always like this, you know," Freya continued. "We're very lucky to have Mama, because it means we're never alone. And being alone is never a nice thing to be.

"I was alone for a while, and I only ever saw my Aunt Dahlia, and she was nasty. Not like Aunt Rebekah or Aunt Hayley at all. And then there was Mathias, and I loved him very much, but she took him away. And then your …" She choked up a little. "And then your big brother had to go with his daddy so he'd be free from Aunt Dahlia, and I was all alone again, and I had no family that loved me.

"Of course, then I finally got to meet your aunts and uncles and I wasn't alone anymore, but it wasn't until I met your mama that I knew I'd never be alone again. Not if I didn't want to. And she wouldn't be by herself, either, because I would always be there."

Blink back her tears, Freya tried to get a hold of herself. Just as she collected herself again she heard the key sliding in the front door lock.

Grinning, Freya stood and said, "Mama's home!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	20. Agony Aunt (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "pre "Up To Something": How did Hayley find out that freya and keelin were falling in love? Maybe she gave Freya or Keelin some advice" from @mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this could be considered as set just before "Up To Something". It takes place in 4x06, just after Hayley has found Freya in a bar with Keelin and realised that Keelin is still around and that Freya cares about her. They're on their way to Hayley's parents' house to do a reading and find out what happened when they died. (It's more uplifting than it sounds, I promise.)

 

 

_Agony Aunt_

 

 

 

Hayley tightened her hands on the steering wheel, glancing at Freya. The oldest Mikaelson was sprawled out in the passenger seat like she owned it, one arm braced on the door while the other rested on the center console. Mikaelsons always sat as though they were on a throne.

"So," Hayley began. "Keelin, huh?"

"Yeah. Again, I'm sorry I didn't tell you she was still in town—"

"You don't have to apologise. Not with what you're about to do for me."

"Still, I like to think that we can be honest with each other."

"We can. But you don't  _have_ to tell me things. As long as you're not hiding something that involves me, I don't mind."

Freya moved her hands to her lap, staring down at them. "You mean like how I never told you I was attracted to women?"

"I figured that out when I went to find you at a club once. Someone said you'd gone to the bathroom, so I followed to see if you were puking or something. Found you with some girl instead."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it's not my place to broach the topic. It's yours. Besides, she didn't seem like a serious romantic prospect, so I just let it go. If you'd been dating someone, I might've tried to … hint that I was around to talk to. And besides, it was one makeout session. Who am I to decide what that means to you?"

"It didn't mean much, but if it's the one I'm thinking of it was definitely fun."

Hayley grinned at her. "That's meaning enough for me." Turning her attention back to the road, Hayley slowed to a stop as they came up on an intersection. "So, Keelin. Does she mean more than fun?"

"I think so."

"You don't sound that excited about the prospect."

"When I'm with her, it's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me. But when I'm away from her, travelling to do a ghost reading at my sister-in-law's childhood home, I start thinking about everything that could go wrong, everything that has gone wrong …"

"It's scary, having someone that makes you want to survive. Having someone that might mean you're obligated to try and survive." Hayley put her foot on the gas, starting up again. "It's harder to throw yourself into the next fight when you know you have to go home after."

"Is that how you feel about my brother?"

"Elijah? No. Elijah, Klaus, all of the Mikaelson family drama, that was just a kind of danger I threw myself into. At least, at first. And Hope was the person that meant I had to protect myself, had to stay alive. I have someone relying on me, and I can't ever forget that."

"I had that, once." Freya's voice sounded far away. "Mathias. He and I were going to run from Dahlia and be together. I was so convinced that our love would conquer all, would conquer her, and when it didn't …" She cleared her throat, turning to look out the window. Hayley suspected it was so she wouldn't see her tears. "I don't know if I can do that again."

"You have a family to help protect her now. You didn't have that with Mathias."

"That's true."

Hayley reached over to cover one of Freya's hands with hers. "We'll make it through this. And I look forward to seeing more of Keelin once we do."

Freya turned her hand over to clasp Hayley's. "You should have one of those advice columns."

"An Agony Aunt one?" Hayley asked, smirking. "I don't know that I could handle housewives complaining about their husbands all the time. I'd probably just tell them to leave them."

"Better than Rebekah would do. She'd tell them to kill their husbands and run off into the night."

Hayley laughed. "That is her MO."

They went over a pothole, bringing Hayley's attention back to where they were. She checked the GPS, seeing how close they were to their destination.

"Nearly there?" Freya asked.

"Yeah."

Freya squeezed her hand tighter. "Are you ready for this?"

"Probably not," Hayley admitted. "But will you help me?" Not just with the spell, she meant. And she could tell that Freya understood, perhaps better than anyone could.

"Of course I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	21. Making a Scene (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe teenagers freelin ? With the Mickaelsons siblings?" from Erika (Thank you!) on Ao3 + "Excuse me, I have to go make a scene" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another!

 

 

_Making a Scene_

 

 

The cafeteria was buzzing with activity, the hum of chatter and wheeze of cool air sputtering through the air vents all becoming white noise in Keelin's mind. The heat was unbearable, the humidity was doing evil things to her hair, she'd set her book on fire in science class and it was only her first day at this new hell school.

But her mom didn't want child protective services sniffing around the pack again, so she had to invest time in this ridiculous human business. Half the boys here were gross and the other half leered at her whenever she walked past, and most of the girls whispered about her where they thought she wouldn't hear, things about her baggy clothes and her cheap stationery and her dodgy family. Sometimes she really wished she didn't have wolf hearing.

She grabbed a lunch tray, hiding how unimpressed she was with the fare on offer. She gave the lunch lady a smile as wide as she could manage, figuring that if anyone in this hell could understand her it was the old woman sweating through her hair net.

Keelin installed herself at the end of an empty table, pulling out a book to make herself look busy and unapproachable. She made it halfway through her cardboard lunch when company joined her.

"Did nobody tell you?" said one boy, his lackeys grinning at him like sycophants. "This is our table."

Keelin eyed the table not three feet away that had cleared up. "I'll just move, then," she said, packing up her things and not meeting their gazes.  _Don't look at them, and you won't snap. Don't look at them, and you won't snap. Don't look at them—_

She'd just started walking when a foot shot out to trip her up. She felt it coming, knew what he was doing on instinct, and caught his outstretched leg with front of her boot without even thinking, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Oooooohhhhh!" the other boys chanted, though the rest of the cafeteria had fallen silent.

Keelin's blood pounded in her ears as she turned to face them. Where were the teachers? Weren't they supposed to get involved in these sorts of things?

The boy she'd tripped hopped to his feet, red-faced and furious. "You  _bitch,"_ he spat.

The cafeteria lit up with noise, excited and nervous chatter as kids craned their necks to get a better look at what was going on. Keelin focused on her breathing, trying to keep her temper in check though the room was swirling around her—

Through it all, a voice, clear as a bell, cut through to her ears: "Excuse me, Brother, I have to go make a scene."

The response, sardonic in tone, was, "Remember that you're wearing Rebekah's shirt and she'll kill you if you get blood on it."

The first speaker didn't respond, their footsteps squeaking through the crowd until they appeared. It was a girl, the same age as Keelin, with dirty blonde hair cut to her shoulders and eyes a blazing green. She smelled like the air before a storm, dangerous and unpredictable.

"Hello, gentlemen," she drawled, stepping up and insinuating herself between Keelin and the gang of boys. "Though I use the term loosely."

"Mikaelson," said one of the boys. "This is none of your business."

"I'm making it my business. Leave her alone or face the consequences."

"Look, your batshit sister isn't here to knee us in the balls every time we look at someone's ass, and I don't really see what you're going to do."

The room went still, something otherworldly running through it. Even the air in the vents seemed to stop, the halogen lights blinking in awe.

The girl, Mikaelson, stepped up until she was toe-to-toe with the boy. "Targeting an innocent student was stupid, Roy. Talking like that about my sister was  _suicidal_. Expect to hear from my brothers."

"I'm not scared of your family."

"You won't be able to say that tomorrow. None of you will."

"All right, all right, break it up!" Finally, a teacher stepped through the crowd, flapping his arms like it would really deter the students. "Freya, sit back at your table. I'll speak with you later."

Stepping back from Roy, Freya turned to Keelin and extended a hand. "Come sit with us?"

"Sure." Had she had the presence of mind, Keelin might have been embarrassed about how breathy her voice was. She let Freya take her by the wrist and lead her through the labyrinth of tables and gawking students to a table at the back, one already occupied by three boys.

"My brothers," Freya said, ignoring the looks shot their way as she guided Keelin into a spare seat. "Finn, Elijah, and Klaus."

"A pleasure," said the one called Elijah, who was ridiculously well-dressed for the occasion in a blazer and dress pants. He eyed his sister. "Please tell me you didn't volunteer us to break Roy Walther's legs tonight?"

"Of course not. I wasn't that specific, but you'll do something. While 'Bekah's gone, you three are in charge of beatdowns."

"This is a regular thing?" Keelin asked, gripping the edge of her tray tightly.

"We keep the brutes in line as a matter of principle," said Klaus. He seemed a quiet, artsy type, his fingers stained with paints and a sketchpad across his lap that he barely looked up from when he spoke. "Our younger sister is usually the aggressor, though she's staying with our aunt in France this semester."

"Freya hardly ever joins the fray," said Finn, raising an arched brow. "I wonder what could have inspired her to do so."

"Technically, I didn't join anything." Freya grinned, taking a bite of her sandwich. "I just signed you three up."

Klaus sighed. "I guess I'll have to borrow Kol's baseball bat without him knowing. He'll want to join in if he finds out what we're doing."

"Not until he's sixteen," said Elijah.

Keelin eyed Elijah skeptically, surprised at the conviction in his tone. "So you guys just … beat people up. Like, as a thing."

"We're Mikaelsons." Freya said it as though it was explanation enough. "And don't worry. The boys won't bother you again. Not while you're with me."

"With us," Finn corrected.

"Right." Freya shared a smile with her brother while she patted Keelin on the shoulder. "With us."

Maybe she should've been more bothered by it, but Keelin couldn't find it in herself to care. She'd been shoved headlong into violence for as long as she could remember. Maybe it was time that someone else took care of it for her, and these people seemed perfectly capable. Dangerous, even.

"Okay, then," she said, grabbing her OJ and screwing the top open. "I guess I know who I'm hanging out with in future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Day 23 mostly written and should be uploading it soon. Still accepting prompts!


	22. Full Moon Blues (Klaroline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm a newly-turned werewolf without a pack and I can't really control myself well on full moon nights yet and you keep finding me passed out naked on your lawn" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOVED this pairing, and this AU. I probably did a bit more work into their backstories than was needed for the prompt, but this does feel like something I might continue at some point because it was so much fun.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: Because this is female Klaus, her name is Nikola, the feminine form of Niklaus. It also assumes that vampires exist some way other than by the Originals, and that Nikola and the Mikaelsons are all around the same age as the Mystic Falls gang, just living somewhere else. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

_Full Moon Blues_

 

 

The pain was unlike anything Nikola had ever felt.

Each bone shattered, shifted, burned through her muscles as they reformed into the new beast. The pain was so horrific she was certain she would pass out, but she was given no reprieve. This was her curse. This was her punishment.

She would endure it.

* * *

When Nikola woke, it was to green grass under her cheek. And her breasts. And her legs.

God, she was naked.

Struggling up, Nikola blinked at the morning sky, tears blurring her vision from the brightness. Right. From the brightness.

She was in the suburbs, a shredded grass lawn at her feet. Furrowed marks speared through the soil, and it took her a moment to realise that they were hers. From her claws.

"Um, what the hell?" demanded a shrill voice.

Nikola spun around, facing the house as she tried to cover herself up. She suspected the layer of dirt would accomplish that for her, but nothing could compare to the comfort of actual clothes.

A girl stood in front of the picturesque house, looking exactly like the kind of person that would come from it: middle class, well-groomed, blonde, and with eyes as cold as ice. She was also holding an armful of textbooks, which made little sense given that she had a backpack slung over one shoulder. And she smelled  _amazing._ "You're naked in the middle of the street."

Cheeks flaring, Nikola looked around to see if anyone else was there. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I just—"

Setting the books down with a huff, the girl shrugged off her jacket and tossed it at Nikola. "Come inside and clean up. Just don't … touch anything until you're clean."

Nikola ran her hands over the jacket, tucking it around herself and following the girl up the porch steps and into the house.

"I'll run a bath," she said, disappearing into what Nikola assumed was the bathroom. The water began running, and she reappeared to grab a towel from the hall closet. "Go clean up. Are you hungry?"

Nikola tightened her grip on the jacket and took the offered towel. "You don't have to cook."

The girl snorted. "Believe me, you don't want me to. But we might have some cereal or something basic. You look like you could use some sustenance."

"Thank you."

"You can thank me by making sure there's no dirt in your hair before you dry it with the towel. It's Egyptian cotton."

* * *

The bathroom was stark and white and gleaming, chrome taps and a mirror that wasn't kind when it showed Nikola's reflection back to her. Her hair was wild, full of dirt and leaves, and her skin was streaked with mud. She wondered if a shower didn't make more sense, but a quick peek into the stall revealed shattered tiles and a disassembled showerhead, along with a sodden copy of  _Plumbing for Dummies._

Giving in, Nikola dropped the jacket and slipped into the bath. It was glorious, right up until the dirt stained the water. It took three tub-fulls for the water to run clear, and another after that to scrub her hair clean with the shampoo provided.

She'd probably have to cut her hair before the next month. God, she didn't want to.

Drying off, Nikola wrapped herself in her damp towel and peeked out the door, finding a pile of clothes on the floor outside.

"The panties are new," the girl informed her from where she was scrubbing the footprints off the floor in the hall.

"Thank yo."

She shrugged, scrubbing harder to get at the tougher grime. Nikola retreated back into the bathroom to change into the jeans and T-shirt she'd been given. There was no bra, but she doubted they were the same size. Not that she was paying attention. Or she expected the girl to be paying attention.

Maybe the worst part about being a wolf wasn't the horrendously painful turning that made you feel like you would die. Maybe it was the awkwardness afterwards that made you wish you could.

Face burning, Nikola emerged from the bathroom with her hair swept up in a towel to keep it from dripping all over the place. She found the girl in the kitchen lining cereal boxes up along the countertop. Nikola hadn't seen half of them before, her family being clean eaters to the extreme, but they were colourful enough to make her head spin. Though that may have been her companion's perfume, which she could smell better than ever now that the reek had been washed from herself.

"Pick whichever one you like," she said, passing Nikola a bowl. "You look starving."

Nikola couldn't argue with that, so she poured herself a big bowl of frosted flakes and let the girl pour her milk into the bowl. They stood at the counter while Nikola tucked in, slurping the milk everywhere.

"So," began the girl. "Do you need me to call anyone? Your family?"

Nikola shook her head resolutely.

"Are they the ones that … I mean, did someone hurt you?" At Nikola's incredulous look, the girl clarified, "You were naked and dirty on my front lawn. That rings all kinds of alarm bells."

"No one hurt me," said Nikola.  _No one can anymore._

The girl seemed relieved by that. "So, do you need a doctor or something? You didn't look hurt to me, but they might need to check you out."

"I don't need a doctor. I'll go as soon as I'm finished eating."

"You don't have to leave," the girl protested.

"Don't you have school?"

"I can blow it off. I know more than my teachers do, and I don't have cheer practice until later." She watched Nikola eat, biting her lip and tapping her fingers on the counter. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Nikki."

"I'm Caroline. I'm also very concerned. Are you sure you don't want me to find some help for you? I mean, where are you staying right now?"

"It doesn't matter." Nikola slurped the rest of her cereal down and set the bowl onto the counter, unwinding the towel from her hair. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I have to be going."

"Going where? Nikki, you can talk to me. I might be able to help. My mom's the sheriff—"

"Thank you, but I'm fine. There's nothing you can do to help me."

At that, Caroline straightened, chin lifting as though she'd been challenged. "I think you'll find that isn't true."

"Agree to disagree." Nikola turned on her heel, ready to leave.

"My ex-boyfriend is a werewolf," Caroline called after her. "He might be able to help you."

Nikola froze. "How did you know—"

"Last night was a full moon, you were naked, and there are claw marks all over my lawn. I figured you're not human, but I wanted to check and make sure no one had hurt you. And because they haven't, there's only one other way you end up like that. Werewolf." She spoke so matter-of-factly, as though Nikola's species wasn't the end of all things.

"And I'm guessing," Caroline continued, "that you don't have anyone to help you. So I'm offering. And I'm also offering Tyler, because fuck if he wouldn't want to contribute to a new werewolf too. It's only been six months since he triggered his curse, and wolves need a pack, so."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Caroline smiled. "Because there was a time when I was alone and afraid too, and someone was there for me. He was exactly what I needed when I needed it most. I can't imagine what it would've been like without him."

Nikola eyed her more closely, the lovely features, the bright shine of her eyes. She couldn't be a wolf. No way could anyone bounce back from turning this fast. "You're a witch?"

"Vampire, actually, though I know a few witches. We can help you."

It was tempting. But if Nikola's own family weren't going to protect her, why would this vampire and her friends? What did they stand to gain? "I'm better off on my own."

"If you insist. But if and when you change your mind, we'll still be here."

"I won't."

"We will."

Nikola stared her down, caught by her gaze. Of all the vampires' lawns to wake up naked on, it had to be the one belong to the most beautiful girl Nikola had ever seen.

"Goodbye, Caroline," she said finally, leaving her behind. She didn't have time for beautiful vampire girls that made promises they couldn't possibly keep.

* * *

_One month later …_

"Lovely day for it, isn't it?"

Nikola grunted, rolling over. She was covered in a blanket, and the only sun blazing against her skin was filtering in through the window. She was laid down on a second blanket over the carpet in what appeared to be a bedroom.

Caroline's bedroom.

"How did I get here?" she asked, groggy.

"Found you on the lawn and brought you in before Mom could see you. That's kind of hard to explain to her, though if you clean yourself up I can just pretend you're a friend or something."

"Or something," Nikola commented, rubbing her face. "I didn't even come to this town to turn. I was miles away."

"Apparently your wolf-side likes me," said Caroline, eyes sparkling. There was the sound of a car pulling out of the driveway, and Caroline clapped her hands together. "There are clothes and a fresh towel in the bathroom, so go clean yourself up. I'll pour you a bowl of frosted flakes!"

"You are way too excited by this."

Caroline grinned, poking Nikola on the shoulder on her way past. "It's not every day pretty girls are so obsessed with me that their fursonas bring them right to my doorstep. I'm allowed to be excited." And with that she flounced away, practically skipping to the kitchen. "Nice hair, by the way," she called over her shoulder.

Nikola ran a hand over her hair, cut short as best she could with only a pair of left-handed scissors and the mirror in the car she'd stolen. She had just begun to sag against the floor when she processed what Caroline had said and sat bolt upright. "Don't ever call it my fursona again!"

Caroline's cackling echoed through the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	23. Just Us Girls (Rebille)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not a damsel in distress; I'm a damsel doing damage" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set mid-S2.

 

 

_Just Us Girls_

 

 

Cami didn't get angry very often.

Well, okay, she got angry. She just didn't really get violent.

But when some guy came around the bar and started groping women and running off when confronted, she got violent. Like, grab her dad's old baseball bat and march down the street in the middle of the night kind of violent.

"Hey, asshole!" Cami yelled, running the bat along the chainlink fence. The lights inside were all off, so he must've been out. She only knew where he lived because he dropped his wallet while he was running off, and she was only doing this because she was lightly buzzed and feeling bold.

Cami jumped the fence, landing awkwardly on her heeled boots. She tip-toed over the wet grass to avoid getting her heels stuck in the mud, finally stepping onto the concrete driveway. Though he was nowhere in sight, his car was right out front. Conveniently for Cami.

Hefting the bat in her hand, Cami walked around to the front of the car and brought it crashing down. The car was harder than she'd thought and the bat bounced off, nearly coming back and hitting her in the face.

Musical laughter filtered over to her, making her whirl around in search of the source. Rebekah Mikaelson stepped out from behind a hedge, dressed impeccably in a cocktail dress and heels. No coat, but she probably didn't feel the cold.

"What are you doing here?" Cami demanded.

"I was walking along when I saw you with a baseball bat in hand and murder in your eyes. Suffice to say it got my attention. I thought perhaps you might be in need of rescuing." Rebekah sauntered towards her, inspecting the slight dent she'd left in the car.

"I'm not a damsel in distress; I'm a damsel doing damage." Cami hefted the bat over her head and brought it down again, this time on one of the lights. The glass cracked, falling onto the driveway. "And believe me when I tell you this asshole is asking for it."

"Oh, I believe you." Rebekah's grin was almost feral. "Might I volunteer my assistance?"

"Thanks, but I've got it." Cami took the bat to the other light, then the side-mirrors. "I want to do this myself."

"Then I won't interfere." Rebekah folded her arms over her chest and rocked back on her heels, observing the carnage with a smirk.

Cami kept going until her arms burned, until she was breathing heavily and the bat was beginning to splinter. "Abusive—assaulting—piece—of—shit! See if you come around to my bar anymore!" Panting, she dropped the bat and looked at her hands, the flesh tender where the wood had rubbed against her skin.

"I can go find a knife if you want to slash his tires." Rebekah moved to lean back against the front of the house.

Cami shook her head. "No, we should—"

As Rebekah's back touched the brick, the light switched on out front and an alarm started going off.

"Shit!" Cami grabbed the bat and ducked down.

Rebekah appeared at her side in an instant. "Grab onto me and don't panic. I'll get us out of here."

Cami nodded wordlessly, hooking her arms around Rebekah's neck and letting her lift her off her feet. She closed her eyes as the air rushed around them, buffeting her blouse and skirt like flags in the wind and whipping her hair at her skin almost painfully.

When they finally came to a stop and Cami opened her eyes they were on a rooftop, well out of the suburbs and without a single alarm in hearing distance.

"I'm gonna set you down," said Rebekah, lowering Cami until her feet touched the ground.

"Thank you." Her mouth felt numb and her legs were buzzing, and when she released Rebekah she swayed a little, bat dropping onto the ground between them.

Rebekah shot a hand out to steady her. "Here, sit down." She guided Cami to some plastic furniture lying around, the chair creaking under her weight. Porch furniture was a blessing, Cami decided, and anyone who disagreed could kiss her ass.

"Do you need me to get you something?" Rebekah offered.

"I'm fine," said Cami, resting a hand on her chest like an old woman with a heart condition. "Just not used to the violence."

"That's violence? You barely dented the car."

Cami rolled her eyes. "Not all of us can be immortal warriors."

"True." Rebekah sat across from her, crossing her legs at the ankles. "You did well. I would've taken the bat to him, but his car suffered well enough."

"Thank you."

"You could've slashed the tires, though. Next time bring a knife or something, because that was an oversight."

"In my defence, I don't get angry very often. Not like that."

"Well, you should. It's fun." Rebekah grinned, tracing her lower lip with her teeth. "Letting it get all pent up isn't good for anyone's health."

"Are you giving me advice now? I didn't know you cared."

"I care about people," Rebekah protested. "Women especially. We've got to stick together in a world like this."

"A world with assholes that need their cars trashed?"

"A world where there was a man following you down that street."

Cami didn't know how to feel about that. Grateful that Rebekah was there, but terrified of what would have happened if she wasn't. "I'm guessing he's not going to be following anyone anymore?"

"Not unless the dumpster I left him in grows legs. But don't worry—I'm sure you could've managed it. You had a bat and a can-do attitude. So long as you're willing to do to him what you did to that car, you'll be fine."

"Thank you for helping me." She didn't have the energy to care that the man was dead. The anger had fled and she was exhausted.

"Anytime. And thank you for entertaining me."

Cami smiled limply. "I'd say  _anytime_ , too, but I don't know if I can keep this up."

"You don't have to smash up cars to be interesting, Camille. What you do to my brother is more than enough."

"Well, that I can't take credit for."

Rebekah grinned. "I know what he's like, and you're a hero to me. An exhausted one, but a hero nonetheless. Would you like me to see you home?"

"I'd say no to be polite, but I don't even know where we are."

Standing to her full, impressive height, Rebekah reached down and tugged Cami to her feet as well. "Oh, don't worry about being polite with me. I've heard you call me a bitch plenty of times."

Cami winced as Rebekah took her the arm and led her to the stairwell. "Sorry. I don't usually do that, and there's no excuse."

"You lost your brother and your uncle, and that's plenty enough to excuse you. Also, I am a bitch."

Cami laughed despite herself. "You are not."

"I am. That doesn't mean I can't be kind or protective or a good sister and aunt. It just means that I'm flawed."

"Acknowledging your flaws is a precursor to change," Cami acknowledged.

"Oh, turn off your inner shrink for the night. I'm not Nik, here to get your psychological expertise and find the path to my redemption. It's just us girls here."

"Okay, then," Cami agreed, letting Rebekah take her by the hand and lead her down the stairwell, giggling even though she was sure the booze had worn off long ago. This was probably the most fun she'd had in a while, and she could feel herself coming awake just from the feeling of Rebekah's hand in hers. "You know what else I have."

Rebekah slowed, turning back to look at her as she pulled the wallet out of her jacket pocket and dangled it between them. "A men's wallet?"

"Belongs to the same guy as the car. It's how I knew where he lived."

Rebekah's face went from confused to delighted in a flash. "Is there cash? We should buy pepper spray or something for you. The perfect karma."

"There are a few bills, plus his credit card. And I'm more thinking booze and tasers, though the latter will be hard to get at this time of night."

Rebekah tightened her grip on Cami's hand. "We can just break in and leave the cash on the counter. Come on, I want to see what we can zap with it."

Cami followed her down, teetering on her heels to keep up as Rebekah tugged her along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	24. Paranoid (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that. It's annoying" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another!

 

 

_Paranoid_

 

 

Freya traced the salt line under the windowsill with her fingers, making certain the edges were straight. She'd checked this morning, but it was windy and not all the windows shut properly, and a draft could easily disturb the line—

"What are you doing?"

Freya didn't turn to face Keelin, just moved on to the next window. "Making sure there aren't any gaps."

"Didn't you spell them to stay in place?"

"Yes, but I wanted to be sure I did it right. I'd use chalk as the binding agent, but it's not as powerful, so." Freya turned around, thumbs working their way into her belt-loops. "Everything's fine, and the neighbours haven't noticed the salt, so we're all good."

Keelin sighed, stepping forward and covering Freya's hands with hers. "Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that."

"It keeps us safe."

"It's annoying."

"It's necessary."

"You being this worked up all the time is not necessary. And if it is, then we're going to have to do something about it, because neither of us can live like this."

"I have everything under control," said Freya, trying to sound comforting.

"And if this escalates? Your obsession with protecting us? I refuse to be held captive by fear, Freya. It's been five months since you defeated The Hollow, and it's time to move forward."

"I didn't defeat her," said Freya. "I didn't defeat anyone. Vincent stopped her, and I just … failed. Failed at keeping my family together, failed at keeping us safe."

"You were prepared to do whatever it took to protect them. You can't control every threat." Keelin framed Freya's face with her hands. "We can't be in control of everything. Just this. Just us. You can let go."

"What if I don't know how?"

"You can learn," Keelin assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We'll both learn how to live with this."

Taking a deep breath, Freya nodded. "Okay. We'll learn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts! I'm considering doing a second part to one of these as the final prompt for Day 30, so if you guys want to vote or whatever, feel free to do so in the comments!


	25. Coffee Break (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they have an exchange program" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another!

 

 

_Coffee Break_

 

 

"If my day gets any worse, I'm asking hell if they have an exchange program," Keelin declared as she flopped down in her chair, legs thanking her for finally relieving them. "Though I'm pretty sure I was in hell today regardless."

"I ordered your usual," said Freya, pushing an espresso towards Keelin. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I just want to be here. But maybe later."

"I'll be here," Freya assured her. "And so will Evie, won't you, sweetie?"

The baby cooed in her chair, arms and legs waving up and down.

"She's a good listener, I'll give her that." Keelin reached over to pinch her daughter's cheek before turning back to her coffee, inhaling the scent. "Tell me more about your day."

"Well, we went to the park and saw the ducks, and even fed them some peas and corn."

"No bread?"

"Bad for them. I googled."

"Huh. Who knew?"

"Google, apparently."

Keelin sipped on her coffee. "I kind of feel like we've been let in on a conspiracy. Like the FBI has something to do with why we feed ducks bread uncritically."

Freya raised an eyebrow. "Can one feed ducks critically?"

"You did."

"That is true," Freya acknowledged, a smile playing on her lips. "Freya Mikaelson: Critical Duck Feeder."

"A CSI spin-off in an alternate universe, I'm sure. Maybe instead of taking your sunglasses off for every dramatic moment you can adjust your hat. One of those ones you stick your ponytail through the back of."

Freya laughed. "I hate those, and you know it."

"Well, I think you look adorable in our summer photos—" Keelin stopped, reaching for the pager beeping on her belt. "I'm so sorry, I have to go."

"It's okay. I'll see you at home later. You can drink wine and tell me all about your day from hell."

"A day in hell would be better." Keelin stood, legs groaning all the while, and downed what she could of her coffee. She was going into surgery, she reminded herself, setting it down. She couldn't need to pee the entire time. "Bye, bye, sweetie," she said, kissing Evie, then turned to Freya and said, "And bye to you," kissing her on the lips.

"Ugh, espresso," said Freya, screwing up her nose.

Keelin slung her purse over her shoulder. "You can't say my kisses don't wake you up."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Say bye, Evie!"

Evie squawked, not quite up to talking, and together she and Freya waved her goodbye.

She could get through hell, Keelin reminded herself. She had heaven to go home to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting prompts!


	26. Good Enough (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Freya is arguing with someone (Klaus? elijah?). The person argues that Keelin isn't good enough. As Keelin listens to them, Freya confesses for the first time that she loves her" from mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 27!

 

_Good Enough_

 

 

Keelin swung the gate open, wandering into the empty courtyard at the Abattoir. She hadn't called ahead to let Freya know she was coming, but then she was coming over to return the phone Freya had left at her apartment, so how could she if she wanted to?

"Freya?" Keelin called, receiving no reply. She started up the staircase, hearing faint voices in the distance. They sounded … angry, maybe?

Keelin stalked closer, stopping short when she could hear them well enough.

"You know that's not what I meant," Elijah was saying tersely.

"What? You didn't mean to criticise my relationship and cast doubt on my girlfriend's intentions?" Freya demanded.

Something lurched in Keelin's stomach.  _Oh._

"I'm simply trying to make sure you are thinking things through, Freya. We don't know this woman, and we don't know that she can be trusted."

"You didn't know me, but you trusted me, didn't you? The strange big sister that had desperately wanted to meet you for over a thousand years, and even when Klaus didn't trust me, you did. You and Bekah loved me like I'd always wanted you to. Why can't you extend half the courtesy to Keelin that you did to me?"

"Because she isn't blood, Freya."

"Esther was our blood, and she was a monster. Keelin is a good woman, a good woman with no family to defend her from people that want to use her. Which, by the way, is what we're doing—we're  _using_ her just to keep you all safe from Marcel's venom. And she has more than accepted that; she  _cares_ that we're safe, that we have what we need to protect this family. She didn't have to do that. She didn't have to give a damn about any of us, but she does. She's not a stranger, Elijah. She's a miracle."

Elijah went quiet, breathing heavily as he apparently thought out his next argument. "Please, sister," he said. "Guard your heart with care. I know from experience just how fragile hearts can be."

"I'm not you, and she's not Tatia or Katherine or Aya. This is different. And if you can love Hayley the moment you meet her, I can build a relationship with Keelin. I can love her, too."

Keelin's breath hitched.

"All right," said Elijah. "But, please, if anything happens that concerns you, tell me. I can help."

"Don't hold your breath, Elijah."

A throat cleared to Keelin's left, making her jump.

"You should pay more attention," said Klaus, smirking.

"Apparently. I just came to return this." She raised the hand clutching Freya's phone.

"I'll take it," Klaus offered. "You should get going. It's best that Freya doesn't know that the first time you knew she loved you was in the middle of a family feud. Best save that for a romantic dinner date or a walk under the stars."

Keelin chuckled nervously and passed Freya's phone to Klaus. "Yeah, that's probably for the best."

As she turned to leave, he stopped her with a, "And don't worry about Elijah. He's an old biddy who will come around eventually. Nothing Freya said was untrue, and she is in no way blinded by you. She knows what she's doing, and all we ask is that you know what you're doing with her, too."

"I do," Keelin said. "I might not know what it's like to have a family, not like this, but I know what it's like to love someone. I know what I'm doing."

Klaus grinned. "Good. Get home safe."

"See you when I see you."

And Keelin left, mind spinning with a thousand thoughts.

_I'm good enough,_ she told herself, and believed it.  _We both are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts are closed as I have enough to finish out the month, but you can always send me an ask (whether you have an account or not) via Tumblr @the-casket-girls and I'll fill those prompts when I can. It won't be a prompt-a-day like this was, but I'm by no means abandoning these ladies. Thank you for all your support and kind comments so far, and I'm glad to be on the home stretch now!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Post 4x07. Freya didn't stop Keelin. But at some point, she comes to her house. She talks through Keelin's door thinking she's not home but she hears everything" from mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

 

 

_Knock, Knock_

 

 

Freya climbed the stairs up to Keelin's front door, almost resorting to scampering up on all fours given how dizzy she was. The number of cocktails she had were bound to leave her tipsy, so she'd taken a cab there.

It was foolish to travel in this vulnerable state, but she had to see Keelin. She'd made a mistake.

Pressing her forehead against the cool wood of Keelin's front door, Freya knocked just beside her head. She didn't know how long she did it for, but it was long enough that her hand started to buzz. She received no answer.

Whimpering like a child, Freya slid down the door until her ass touched the welcome mat. "Keelin," she said, voice almost a whine. "Keelin, I'm sorry. I should've stopped you from walking away. We should've talked. I want to talk to you." Tears welled up in her eyes; she blinked them away rapidly. "You distract me, and it's dangerous. But it's even more dangerous when you're not there. Worrying about you makes me want to fight, and I'm scared that if you go and I stop worrying that I might stop fighting, too. Not fighting for my family, but fighting for me.

"I … it's been a long time since I fought for me. You make me want to fight. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

Finally giving in, Freya dropped her head back against the door and closed her eyes. She wouldn't sleep here, not if she could help it, because if Keelin was out working a shift the last thing she needed was to come home to Freya blacked out on her front porch—

The slide of the lock was Freya's only warning before the door opened behind her, dropping her onto Keelin's feet.

"Mmf." Freya blinked up at pajama-clad Keelin.

"God, I could smell you through the door," said Keelin, stooping down to help Freya up. "Come inside; it's freezing out. You can sleep on the sofa."

Freya gripped onto Keelin's arm, half because it stopped the room from spinning and half because it made her feel okay again. "Did you hear?"

Keelin's smile was soft. "We'll talk about it when you're sober. I'm gonna get you some water and aspirin for the morning, and you're gonna sleep it off, okay?"

Nodding, Freya let herself be led to the sofa and tucked in with a blanket so soft she thought it just might be a cloud of warm breath covering her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Werewolf Keelin saves the Mikealson/ Freya's life. But she has a hard time dealing with her violent acts. Freya is very supportive..." from mangeur-detoiles on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 29! Just one more to go. I was considering doing an extra to make up for the day 7 that I missed, but I'm probably not well enough and don't have the time to do that.

 

 

_I Will For You_

 

 

Keelin watched the blood circle the drain, streaks of it turning the water pink as it slid over the porcelain sink before disappearing. She scrubbed all the way up to her elbows, watching the dried blood peel from her skin and dissolve into the water in flakes. She scrubbed like she was preparing for surgery, preparing to save a life.

She didn't have lives to save. Just ones she'd taken.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door. "Keelin?" It was Freya. "Keelin, please. Unlock the door."

Keelin tore her gaze away from the water, which had started running clear, and wiped her hands on the towel slung over the bath. She unlocked the door to find Freya, barefoot but still wearing her dress from dinner.

"Hey," she said, concern written all over her face. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Keelin glanced down at herself, in nothing but underwear. Her own dress was a bloody, unsalvageable heap in the corner. "Just cleaning up."

"I can help," Freya offered. "I'll wash the blood out of your hair, and we'll get you clean and warm and I'll find some tea to help you sleep."

"You don't have to do that." Keelin ran a hand over her hair, finding the matted sections of dried blood. "It's not like I've never done this before. Not with my history."

"Well, you don't have to do it alone now. Neither of us do. Shower or bath?"

"Shower," said Keelin. "I can't look at the blood sitting in the water."

"Good call. I'll go get your favourite pajamas and run them through the dryer so they're extra warm when we're done. Be right back." Freya pressed a hand to her cheek before leaving.

Left alone with her own reflection, Keelin stared at her blood-splattered face and tangled hair. She was so tired she just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week, but she had to get the blood off. If she woke up to it, she didn't think she'd ever sleep well again.

She'd thought she was past this when she left home. Living life as a wolf alone was hard, but with a pack was even worse. Pack fights, vampire hunting, witch-baiting—she'd hated all of it. Her family didn't get the respect or place they were owed in the pack, and everyone just did whatever they wanted. She didn't want to be that. She didn't want to kill. She wanted to save lives, not take them.

"Strip off and hop in," said Freya, breezing back into the bathroom with a pile of her own clothes. "I'll join you in a second."

Keelin nodded, doing as instructed and switching on the water. She kept it cooler than she usually liked; Freya didn't like the heat as much as Keelin did.

"Okay, got it!" said Freya, holding a bottle aloft. "I mixed up the oil a couple days ago. It should help relax your muscles and encourage good sleep."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Here." She passed it to Keelin, then divested herself of her own dress and hopped in. "Let's take care of all the blood, then focus on relaxing, okay?" She grabbed the washcloth slung over the top of the shower and wet it under the spray, working it over Keelin's face gently. "There we go," she said, pulling it back streaked with blood and makeup. Keelin didn't know how Freya saw her tears through the spray of water and rivulets running down from her sodden hair, but she did. "I'm so sorry you had to do this. You should never have been in this position, and I know you don't like the violence."

"I don't," Keelin agreed. "But I'll do it for you, for our family. That's not a hard choice to make."

"I'm still sorry you have to make it."

Keelin blinked the tears from her eyes and attempted a smile. "It's worth it. And we both know it's not the last time."

"Well, at least we're good at it," said Freya. "We should get good at this part, too. Turn around so I can rub your back."

Keelin did as she asked, resting her forehead against the cool tile of the shower. The oil felt like silk being rubbed into her skin and the scent wafted up around her, curling in with the steam.

She could do this. She would do this. And she'd be damned if she was going to lose the family she had now.


	29. All I Want For Christmas (Freelin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you're getting really mad but you don't know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can't wait to see your face" from Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! Day 30.

 

 

_All I Want For Christmas_

 

 

"What did you buy me, a horse?"

Freya grinned into her eggnog. "Just open it."

Keelin rolled her eyes, setting down her own drink and standing up to face the monstrosity Freya had hauled in from the garage. It was wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper with a pretty bow stuck to the top, a tag attached that read:  _Because I know how patient you are. Xx_

Unsticking the bow carefully, Keelin set it aside and began ripping through the paper. It revealed a box, free of tape to hold the top in place so it just lifted open a little. Keelin leaned over and opened it all the way, coming face-to-face with … another box.

"Seriously?" Keelin asked, finding a poker-faced Freya watching her from the sofa. "This is going to take ages, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm getting comfortable," was Freya's reply. She grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her lap, taking another sip of her eggnog.

With a sigh, Keelin resigned herself to her fate. Six boxes later, she was down to one the size of a great dane. "Is it a dog?" she asked. "It better not be, because this has been in the garage long enough that the thing would be dead."

"No, it's not a dog." Freya sounded offended at the insinuation. "Keep going."

"How much longer?"

"However long it takes."

"Fine. But I'm going to complain the entire time."

Freya grinned. "I expected nothing less."

The next ten boxes were ridiculous. They were each a tight fit, barely slotting together, and the pile of discarded boxes behind Keelin was officially taller than their tree.

Left with one the size of a tissue box, Keelin turned to Freya. "How much more is there?"

"Just one." Freya set her empty cup down, leaning forward to set her elbows on her knees and rest her chin in her hands.

Keelin walked to her, perching on the edge of the coffee table as she slid her index finger under the tape, popping it open and tearing the paper. This box was taped shut too; the only one that had been out of the sixteen so far. "Ooh, fancy," she said, picking at the packing tape with her fingernails until it came off and the lid sprung up. Pulling them open the rest of the way, Keelin peeked inside, finding it full of packing peanuts.

"Okay, then." She reached in, sifting through them until her fingers met something firm but soft to the touch. Sealing her fingers around it, she pulled it free, packing peanuts sticking to her hand as she did.

It was a velvet ring box.

"Oh, my god." Keelin met Freya's gaze, the steady light in them, and knew it was exactly what she thought it was.

"I believe it's my job to open that box," said Freya, taking it from Keelin's frozen hands as she knocked the other box aside and dropped to one knee. True to her word, Freya opened the box to reveal a gorgeous silver ring set with moonstones. "Keelin Malraux—"

"Yes."

Freya laughed, tears shining in her eyes, and Keelin was certain she looked the same. "You have to let me ask the question first."

"Sorry." Keelin chuckled, wiping her tears. "Go on."

"Keelin Malraux," said Freya, "I have seen incredible things. I have met powerful people, witnessed them perform miracle after miracle, but the greatest miracle I have ever been lucky enough to witness is you. The chance to marry someone I love was once beyond my wildest imagination, but with every day I spend by your side I begin to realise more and more that marrying you is the only future worth imagining." She paused, gathering herself. "Would you honour me by agreeing to be my wife?"

Openly weeping and not caring one bit, Keelin nodded. "Yes," she managed between sobs, barely remembering to stick her hand out so Freya could slip the ring onto her finger.

Despite her own tears, Freya managed a devilish grin. "I would also be humbled if I could kiss you without you sobbing into my mouth."

"You're going to be my wife; you can deal with it."

And with that Keelin shot forward, taking Freya's face between her hands and sealing their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all of your comments, prompts, and support. This was more successful than I ever imagined it would be (I only missed one day for health reasons!), and that's down to you guys, so thank you for being so lovely and motivating. This is definitely something I'd like to do again in future.
> 
> Just as a reminder: I do still accept prompts via the-casket-girls on Tumblr, so anyone can send me some in my inbox and I'll get to them when I can. It won't be daily, but it'll be something, and I'll post all prompts to Ao3 and like I always have with others.
> 
> Thank you again! xx


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